Strong Resolve
by SkeeDev
Summary: Eli Strong spent a lot of her time in the wrestling world making friends, but with so many friends comes many enemies. Will the relationship with the love of her life, CM Punk, survive the drama that is the WWE? Rated M: Later Chaps & Language. R/R
1. Her Determination

**HEY! Just an FYI. I DO NOT own anything to do with the WWE but i do own ELI. It's been a while, so please be gentle with me. :3 Skee (R&R Please!)**

"Easy come, easy go, easy girls; rock n roll" At those last words, I stilled my body of its mindless shaking, sucked in a breath, and took my first steps towards superstardom.

Not moments later, the music continuing, I stopped. My breath was taken away by the site before me, the ring, my opponent, who just happened to be my best friend Kelly Kelly, but that's not what halted the steps I'd waited my entire life to take.

It was the thousands of people; the thousands of people, not to mention the millions watching live at home, staring at me, waiting to see what I'd do next.

The months of preparation I'd put into this moment didn't do shit for the actual thing. I felt a huge grin smear across my cheeks, my arms rising; fists in the air.

After another second, I lifted my feet, eager to start my first match as a WWE diva. I didn't run to the ring, wasting my energy before the match was a bad idea, especially since my opponent was Kelly.

She was a high energy, and super confident competitor, with the blonde hair and baby blue eyes of a Barbie doll; I was scared shitless.

I faintly heard the referee tap the 1, 2, 3; but that's understandable since Kelly had just slammed me with a Kelly Killer.

It's pretty much a back handspring to the chest followed by an elbow to the face; not fun. Frankly, I don't remember how I got to the locker room, but I ended up there somehow.

Kelly was sitting next to me, being best friend like. She was saying how great a fight I put up. But with my adrenaline rushing I doubted that. Probably all I did was run around the ring like a ten-year-old on crack, instead of remembering my decades of training.

Twenty years; since I was 6, I'd been training for this day, and I practically blew it.

I pressed the ice pack to my jaw, but my pride hurt more.

"Eli. Come ON. You did so well! Plus, you went up against the divas champ after all. That's almost as bad as what Johnny got for his debut match, remember?"

Oh yeah I did. My other best friend, one only a few months older to the business than me, was Johnny Curtis. He was the winner of NXT season 3 and on his debut match he had to go up against Mark Henry, aka the 'World's Strongest Man'.

I could only imagine how much ice he got after that one.

"Almost as bad?" Johnny piped up from the door way, his shoulders leaning against the frame. "I got it ten times worse! I had to go up against Mark-friggen-Henry!" He took a step forward, and then sat on the other side of me.

He was dressed in his spanks, ready for his match later that night. "Plus, you did great. I saw that smug smile on your face on the stage..." he nudged my shoulder with his.

"Ok, ok. Whatever, my face hurts so fucking bad!" I grumbled, glaring at Kelly.

"Sorry" she gave a weary smile then laughed. We sat there for a few more minutes while I nursed my bruised jaw. It would be fine. I hoped.

"Come on Kel; just leave it alone, ok?" I found myself asking again for the hundredth time in the past hour.

It had been over a year since that day, and frankly I would love a Kelly Killer right now if it meant I didn't have to hear Kelly bitch at me again.

"Eli, it's not healthy to hide from your problems." I knew that she was only trying to help, like always, but I really didn't want to think about anything other than what I was headed towards. "You're going to have to face this eventually."

I sighed and looked at my best friend; her baby blue eyes riddled with concern, her perfectly tanned face that was framed in waving falls of gold, said the same.

She was worried that I was in some sort of downward spiral, and in some way, I was. I raked my fingers through my own strawberry blond hair, most of my short hair flowed back with my hand.

I hated seeing people worry about me, especially Kelly. She'd been my best friend since the first day I came to work at the WWE, she even took me under her wing and helped me earn my first championship, but that was over two years ago.

I was pushing 26; it was time to grow up.

"Kel, I'll be fine. I always am. Quit worrying or you'll get wrinkles." I cracked an almost sincere smile, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

Her face said she was still concerned, but her words said she'd back off.

"Alright, just be careful. You can't run from this forever." She said, placing her hand on my arm. She had that kind of effect on people; no matter where, who, or how upset you were, she could always put you at ease with a simple, friendly touch.

I was almost envious.

I waited until she had rounded to corner of the hallway before I knocked on the room door. Not ten seconds passed until the door opened, revealing my flavor of the month.

When I'd said I was a sort of downward spiral, I was serious. For months I'd been doing this, what I liked to call, "room hopping" and for what? To fulfill some stupid emptiness that was lingering in my heart?

Hell yes.

When you're in the business of entertaining people, you make the "no strings attached" policy blatantly clear. Months ago, I'd made the mistake to attach some of my strings to a particular superstar.

I was secretly hoping, as I waited at the hotel door, that this man in front of me was him; but it wasn't.


	2. Time to Face the Music

It had been over four months since my I'd thought like that and Kelly wasn't down my throat about facing my problems anymore, and I wasn't 'room hopping' either.

I walked from the elevator doors of the lobby of my hotel to the restaurant that resided across the floor. I wasn't three feet closer when Johnny came towards me, concern in his eyes.

Johnny Curtis wasn't usually an emotional man, a riot yes, but he rarely expressed genuine concern. So when the fellow superstar approached me, I was taken aback, despite him being my best friend.

"I wouldn't; he's in there." If I were moving, his words would have stopped me dead in my tracks.

After I'd just spent a good hour in bed, on the floor, against the wall, with CM Punk, the mention of this man sent chills down my spine.

I considered leaving for a moment, but two things got me. One being my pride, which refused for me to turn tail and run; the other, was the uncontrollable urge to be close to him again.

It wasn't like we were sitting at the same table, but the thought of being at the same room with him caused goosebumps on the inside of my arms.

I grabbed Johnny's arm and pulled him towards the restaurant.

"Like hell we're leaving." Johnny followed me obediently, until I stopped.

I looked down, my usual tank, flannel shirt and shorts, and I felt oddly self-conscious. I looked back up at Johnny; all that defiance and pride vanished from my face. He just smiled and pulled me towards the doors.

The restaurant was on the dimmer side, but if that man could see me, he would know that I was as strong as ever. After a few seconds, I started to doubt that I would actually see him.

"Hey Eli." That voice like ice sent hot shivers down my spine.

Whatever had happened between me and him; there was still something there, but I wasn't sure what.

I turned my head towards the sound of my name, laying my eyes on a man, clad in a casual t-shirt and jeans; his tattoos oozing from his sleeves.

Those icy blues bore into my jade greens, I looked away slightly not being able to take the heat that stirred within me.

His face was usually smooth, but I was liking this new, messier him; his face covered in hair. His lips were turned into a small smile, showing off his teeth; that mouth killed me every time.

"Hey Randy!" I tried to put up a good front, Johnny obviously noticing the battle I was in.

I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders, almost like he was protecting me from the threat that was Randy Orton.

I had spent months of my life hung up over him, and for what? To show him that I needed him, like a little school girl? Well, the truth is, I didn't, and no one could see that.

Four months ago, sure, I would have jumped all over him. Would I be happy? No, but having him would have been worth it.

Being with Randy was like being on drugs. The high was great, but the withdrawal was brutal. I wasn't willing to sacrifice something amazing for something that had caused me so much pain already.

"So, Randy, I haven't seen you around lately. Where have you been?" Johnny asked, breaking the awkward silence that started to build.

"I've been having some family problems. A divorce actually, apparently there was some infidelity issues." His eyes burned into me the split second he glanced at me. I wrapped my arm around Johnny. I knew all too well about Randy and his wife's 'infidelity' issues. They were me.

"Damn man, sorry about that." Johnny said, trying to wrap up the conversation quickly. He didn't want to be there anymore than I did.

"Nah, I knew she was cheating on me anyways." Again, Randy's eyes flashed towards me. "But, hey, I'll let you two get back to lunch. This place makes one killer stake!" he smiled a full grin, my knees all but buckled.

Johnny said goodbye, for the both of us, and we turned to head towards our own table.

"Ok, awkward much? But damn, he's getting divorced? Rough." Johnny babbled; I was still processing that whole fact.

This couldn't have been something that just happened; it had to been happening for months.

It had only been six months since Randy broke my heart, but was that long enough for his own drama to unfold, a divorce at that? And why did he keep shooting me those deadly stares? Did I have something to do with the divorce? Did he want me back?

Just the thought was enough to stop my breath, but it was also enough to snap me back to reality. He'd literally said that he 'couldn't handle me and my shit'.

"Eli, are you ok?" Johnny's voice snapped me from my twisted daze; it wasn't healthy to go dredging up the past. The past belonged right there, in the past.

"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late, I ran into some fans along the way." Kelly piped as she approached the table.

She was chipper as usual, and equally as beautiful. Every man in the restaurant, single or not, was checking her out.

Damn, if I was a dude, I would be too.

Her long blond hair wrapped around her body that had curves in all the right places.

Her perfectly tanned skin was dressed in similar attire as me, a tank and some shorts. But it was her eyes that caught me.

She'd seen my pensive face before, and it never meant good news. "What's up?" she asked, instant worry flashing in those baby blues.

Johnny rocked his head towards the direction Randy was in, his head turned towards the bar, his lips sipping from a glass of bourbon.

"Shit. Do you want to leave?" I rolled my eyes. I was tired of being treated like a baby; I was a grown fucking woman who could take care of herself.

"What I want is for you to sit your ass so we can eat! God I need a drink." I grumbled.

The two of them were used to my attitude, so when I started spewing shit, they usually just ignored it.

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'm sitting." She sat down directly in my line of sight to Randy.

My internal reaction a cross between 'move your damn ass' and 'OMG I LOVE YOU THANK YOU!'.

"Oh, so how did your breakfast date with Punk go?" she smiled at me devilishly, successfully getting me off of the subject of Randy.

Johnny shot me a look of disgust.

"Ew! Seriously, why are you dating him! Have you seen the bags under his eyes? He looks like a damn pedophile!" I couldn't help but laugh, my yelp attracting the attention of a certain man at the bar; Randy.

"Ok, first, Punk is damn fine. And second, it wasn't a child he molested." I smirked.

Kelly thought my joke was funny, but I guess guys just can't joke like that.

"Plus, since when are you rating how hot the guys I date are?" I cocked a brow; Johnny's face turned slightly pink.

"Well, first of all, this is the first guys you've actually dated since I've known you and second look at the other guys you've hung out with! Like Alex, all the ladies love him. Everyone did love Christian, but at least he has that whole, older and sophisticated thing going. John, everyone loves John! And loves Ted, and Zack, and Dolph, and Wade, sort of. Even-" his words cut off.

I knew what he was going to say, 'even Randy had the ladies pulling for him'.

I sighed, knowing that just killed the conversation.

"But really, your taste in guys lately has really gone to the dogs." Johnny continued, trying to maintain the ease of the pervious conversation.

"How so?" that earned me queer looks from both Johnny and Kelly. "Punk is totally hot! Haven't you guys figured out yet that I actually like the whole, ego centric, brash personality? And Sheamus isn't that bad, granted the orange hair is a bit startling."

"Eli, you've gone blind. Don't make me set you up with someone next time! Maybe Drew, or Daniel, maybe even Mason! I know how you like those big muscly types!" I laughed at Kelly's words. I knew she was just kidding, hopefully.

"Sorry, Daniel is too goofy for me. Drew is too Scottish. And Mason, well, I like him, but were just really good friends. You guys don't need to worry about me, I'm set."


	3. Here Comes Ugly!

"Alright Kel, I'll meet you downstairs in a few hours. Later." I said my goodbyes to Kelly and Johnny.

Kelly and I were headed to Raw tonight early to sign some autographs. I loved hanging out with fans, they said the damnedest things.

Kelly was going to stay around the lobby with Eve to strategize for her match tonight, so that left me with a few hours to kill.

Ever since the down fall of the Divas of Doom, things around the Divas division had been pretty quiet, until tonight that is.

Tonight I was supposed to announce that CM Punk and I were starting a new revolution that would put the Ice Cream bar scandal to shame.

I'd actually complained to Triple H a few weeks ago how you never saw a Diva get involved in a Superstar match up, and how the days of mixed tag-team champions had only just begun. He agreed to get the ball rolling after my intense pestering techniques wore him down.

Now tonight CM Punk and I were to form the first ever male-female tag team partnership called New Voice, and, really, the name was actually kind of fitting.

Punk had always been seen as the Voice of the Voiceless, and the whole thing was my idea.

We were the two biggest loud mouths on WWE, so it was fitting that we would team up to make a change.

While I was on my way back to my room to go over what I would say tonight, I boarded the elevator, surprised to see Randy the only one in there.

It was too late to turn back now, so I had to ride it out.

"Hi." He said, almost homely like.

Randy was anything but homely.

"Hi." My reply was little more than a whisper.

"So how come Curtis was your voice piece earlier. I know you have a voice, and I know you like to use it." He pried, I just shrugged.

I didn't exactly know what to say to him.

'Oh, hey, Randy, sorry about that, I was reliving the worst moment of my life when you broke my heart, in my head earlier. But don't worry about it! I'm fine now!'

I sighed.

There would be no way I could say what I was thinking, because what I was thinking and feeling were two different things.

My brain told me to keep my distance, when my heart told me to jump his bones right then and there in the elevator.

And his intent staring wasn't making it any easier to ignore my heart.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I stared at the wall in front of me, afraid that if I looked at him, I'd lose all my resolve.

"Oh really, I said hi to you and Johnny took over. You didn't even say two words!"

"Huh." I shrugged, remaining seemingly nonchalant.

My arms were crossed over my chest, my back leaning against the elevator's wall.

After a moment I spoke, "Actually I did."

That earned me a glance from the Viper, I could see him in the corner of my eye turn his head. He also cocked his brow.

"I said, hey Randy, before Johnny started talking. So I actually did get two words in." I explained, counting the two words I said earlier with my fingers.

Just as Randy was responding, the elevator door opened.

To my surprise, and relief, it was Punk, right when I needed him.

I'd told him the longer short version of the Eli/Randy story, despite the fact that it was already common knowledge. I bet he could feel the tension.

"Hey Eli, where you headed?" he asked, coming to stand between me and Randy, slipping his fingers into mine.

I smiled, and answered.

"I was headed to my room to start on my pre-warm up before I headed over to the arena. Where were you going?"

"The gym, I thought I would catch you there before you left with Kelly." Punk paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, hey Randy, it's been a while. What's up?" he flashed a complete shit eating grin to Randy.

"Nothing much, you?" apparently the whole divorce thing was supposed to be a secret.

"Yeah, pretty much the same." The elevator door dinged again, only this time it was finally my turn to leave this torture box.

"Oh, that's your floor." Punk said, leading me out of the elevator.

"I guess we'll see you around Randy!" his smile was slightly less shit eating that the first, but still smug as hell; like Punk.

"Yeah see you." He looked at Punk for a good second, then, right before the door closed, his eyes landed on me.

I quickly glanced away, but not before I could see the downright frustration that was building behind those dangerous blue eyes.

Once the doors closed, I turned to Punk, relief written all over my face.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now." I sighed, and explained to him my awkward run-ins with Randy in the past hour.

"Well then, I'm glad I could help." He smiled, and leaned down and kissed my lips.

He wasn't usually into any kind of PDA, but we were in an empty hallway, so it didn't count.

I was pulling away when I heard a couple of noises at the other end of the hallway.

I looked over to see Johnny and Kelly, somehow, standing outside of my room.

"How the hell did you guys get up here so fast?" I asked walking closer, tugging Punk along by the hand behind me.

As I approached the two I could hear their breathing slow down, they ran?

"Why were you guys running?" I cocked a brow, anxious to hear their reasoning.

"You forgot your phone on the table at the restaurant. And Kelly wanted to talk to you." Johnny stated.

"So how did that involve running?"

"Johnny was acting like he was in high school again, and being a jerk. I wanted to talk to you alone, but you know him. Always prying." I nodded; it was true he couldn't stay out of other people's business.

Johnny made a noise of protest; it was instantly cut off by me and Kelly both smacking him in the chest. "Shut up."

"So do you need me to leave?" I heard Punk ask, he was standing slightly behind me, his fingers still laced in mine.

I squeezed his hand trying to tell him to take it back, but Kelly caught his words before that could happen.

"It'll only take five minutes, I promise! You can stay out here too!" Kelly flashed those pearly whites, and batted those long lashes of hers.

No man, or woman, alive could refuse that look. I sighed knowing the sign of total and utter defeat.

I handed over my key card to Kelly.

"You have five minutes. Make it snappy." She took the key, and Johnny, and headed into my room, leaving me to say goodbye to my savior, screw the second city.

"Sorry, when she's like this nothing can stop her, you know that." I hinted at his and Kelly's past, other than really piss me off, it made me laugh.

I stepped up on my tippy-toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. I would have loved to spend more than five seconds there, but Johnny was in the doorway, making fake puking noises.

I smiled at Punk, squeezed his hand, and let it go. "I'll be right back, sit tight." I backed away from him, reluctantly turning into my room; Johnny closed the door behind me.

"I fucking hate you both, you more though." I said pointing to Johnny, who was giving me the whole 'I'm innocent' look.

"Why me? This was Kelly's idea! Be mad at her!" I narrowed my eyes at him, not answering.

"She can't" Kelly stated, completely true. No one could be mad at that Barbie doll.

Hearing her voice made me wonder what she was doing. I looked at her to see her sitting on the couch, legs crossed, her arms folded over her knees, about to go all camp consoler on me. I sighed, knowing that I couldn't avoid this chat now.

"What the hell? When I said later, I didn't mean now! God! I was about to have that gorgeous man eight ways from Sunday! And I pass that up for this? Fuck no!" I complained, but I sat my ass in the chair across from Kelly anyways.

"I still say that's nasty. The mental image is horrifying. It's like creepy child molester sex, ew." Johnny complained some more about Punk. His insistent whining and complaining about Punk just made me laugh; I knew what he said had little meaning to it, some days.

"And I still ask, since when do you rate the guys I'm with?"

"Ok, we get it. Johnny is a closet homosexual, and Eli is in to ugly guys. Can we move on to more important matters please?" I cocked a brow, prompting her to say what was more important than harassing Johnny.

"Randy."

That sucked all the fun out of the moment, and the rest of my day.

"Come on, I really don't want to do this today. I already had to deal with him twice today; I don't want to talk about him in my hotel room."

"Wait; was he in the elevator with you?" Kelly asked genuinely concerned, probably remembering mine and Randy's allure for elevators.

"Yeah, but Punk got on a few floors later, and totally saved the day. So everything's good. There's no need for it to be a Kelly Kelly Fix-it project." I smiled at her, hoping she'd drop this whole facing my problems with Randy thing.

"Alright, I guess since you're fine, and not having a mental breakdown, I can drop it; for now."

I released an exaggerated sigh and slipped down the chair until I was on the floor.

"Oh thank God!" I yelled. Having her drop this was a weight off of my shoulders. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go haul Punk's ass in here to celebrate!" I said standing and ushering them out of my room.

I was finishing shoving Johnny from the doorframe; he said he refused to let any creeps in my room.

I punched him in the ribs and as he hobbled away, Kelly piped up.

"Where's Punk? I thought you left him out here." At her words I popped my head out into the hallway; my face fell when I noticed she was right, he wasn't here.

Once the twosome reached the elevator, I closed the door, and with some aggression too. I wasn't mad, per-say, but I was upset.

Upset that Punk would leave; when I told him I would take five minutes, but didn't even take two minutes.

I chucked my suitcase on to the bed, wretched it open, and flung all the clothes out of it. Each piece of attire landed somewhere different on every inch of the floor. I was starting to gather my wrestling gear, angrily, in to a messy pile at the head of the bed.

I had a boot in hand, and was about to chuck it at the headboard, when there was a knock on the door. I ended up throwing the boot at the headboard anyways, then went and threw the door open.

It was Punk, with two cans of Pepsi in hand.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, trying to peer into my room. I still had a "WTF" look on my face, when he asked another question. "What's wrong?"

"Where did you go? I was done in like a minute." I couldn't stop from using my angry voice.

"I went to get us some Pepsi. I remembered you didn't have any earlier, and I figured you'd want one after your pre-warm up." I sighed, realizing that Punk wouldn't actually leave because I left him in the hallway for a minute or two.

The Pepsi excuse sounded much more believable.

"Oh, ok. Well that was my boot, hitting the headboard." I said, admitting that I might have over reacted, like always.

I turned around and started to kick all the strewn clothes on the floor back towards the bed.

"What the hell happened in here?" he asked looking around. "And how did your shorts end up on the back of the couch?" he asked, after he closed the door, as he plopped down on the couch.

"Very carefully." I smiled.

"Oh! I need those!" I said, realizing which shorts those were. I ran over to him and tried, vainly, to get the shorts.

He felt like playing games I guessed.

"Hey! I need those to warm up in!"

"Why do you have these anyways? Hockey sucks let alone the Devils." He taunted, still keeping the shorts out of my reach over the back of the couch.

"Hey! That hurt! The Devils are my home team! Plus, hockey rules, baseball drools. And so do the Cubs, obviously." I teased back, bad idea.

"Oh, so I guess you never want these shorts back then?" he said with a cocked brow. At this point, I was practically on top of him. I sighed, slamming my head down on his chest.

"Come on! I need them to warm up! I can't do it in any other shorts!" I whined.

"You can't 'do it' at all with shorts in general."

Instantly I whipped my head up, I knew I heard a smirk in his voice.

"That's not fair." I grumbled, shoving my head into his neck.

My mouth was against Punks hot flesh, my nails racked gently along his arm, my other hand running down his cotton covered chest.

I left kiss after kiss up and down his neck, my nails causing goosebumps to break out all over his skin.

His hands came to my waist, pushing back my red flannel shirt until it was on the floor.

His hands were starting on my red tank top when I pulled away and headed back to the bed, mesh shorts in hand.

After a few moments, I assumed to catch his breath and to realize what had just happened, Punk spoke.

"Now that was not fair." I just shrugged; a smile on my lips.

However much I regretted pulling away, I had to get ready. I loved playing with Punk, but I loved my job just as much.

I grabbed the small duffle bag from the floor, emptied out the contents, and replaced them with my wrestling gear.

The same black, red and purple striped top and bottoms I'd had for years, a pair of flat black ring boots that went half way up my calf, and the trainers tape I used to wrap my shoulder every night; it all fit quite nicely in the bag.

I was zipping up the bag when I felt a pinch in my left shoulder, then Punk spoke.

"Eli, your shoulder is bleeding." I paused then reached my hand behind me to feel a quarter-sized wet spot on the bandages. I muttered a curse, and started to unwrap it. "What did your stitches pop or something?" Punk asked.

I suddenly remembered that I'd told everyone that my shoulder was wrapped because of an injury, not because of a nasty birthmark.

"Ah, about that, I should tell you…" I turned around and sat on the bed, Punk was already coming towards me.

He sat down on the bed next to me, and gave me a face that prompted me to continue. "Well, I never had shoulder surgery. Actually, I never even had an injury." I paused again, looking at Punk.

His face again prompted me to continue, even more reluctantly I did. "It's a birthmark." I sighed and unwrapped the bandages.

Underneath the now soaked wrappings, there was a purple and dark blue glob that engulfed my left shoulder.

It went from the base of my neck to the round of my shoulder, and reached all the way under my arm. There were a few places among the thin, puffy skin that had traces of blood.

But there was a fresh crack right along the top of my shoulder blade.

"Holy crap, that's really bleeding!" Punk said grabbing a random towel off of the floor.

It wasn't exactly the response I was used to, or even looking for, but it was better than nothing. "Does it usually do this?" I nodded, feeling too exposed to actually use words.

After a few moments or silence, the bleeding stopped, as usual, and Punk turned to me.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" I just shrugged.

I was feeling uncharacteristically shy, and it bothered me, and Punk.

He gave me his 'talk to me' face, which I loved, along with all his other faces.

"I don't know. I guess it was because I was embarrassed. I used to get made fun of because I was the 'freak' of the school. That's why I just started beating kids up instead of talking about it. God, I didn't even lose my virginity until after I graduated and moved away, because I started wrapping it. People just assumed it was a shoulder injury, so I just went along with it." I gushed.

Another moment passed, and I still got no respond from Punk. "Punk, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you."

I barely got to finish the sentence before his hand came up to my face, his thumb lightly caressing my cheek.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you up open up? I mean, it took weeks to get half of the story about Randy, and I still don't know all the details! I seriously doubt you know how secretive you really are."

Yes I did.

I'm so secretive that I even told everyone that I'd never met my parents and any I'm an only child; which both are complete lies.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know I have tons more where those came from." I cracked a grin, mostly because I was nervous, and I never got nervous.

Ever.

After a moment, Punk suddenly shoved all the clothes and bags off of the bed and flopped back. I turned to see him on his back, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, and looking extremely relaxed.

"And _you'll _be happy to know I have tons of time to listen." I couldn't help but smile.

I seriously didn't know what it was about this guy, but I liked being here. I scooted back next to him, lying on my stomach, my chest resting on my elbows.

I kicked my feet back and forth in the air as I started with this story that had gone from a few assumptions, to a flat out lie that not even Kelly and Johnny knew most of.


	4. A Handful of Pennies and a Dream

**"**Ok, well, I was the middle child of a happy, functional, nuclear family. I had two awesome parents, Roger and Caroline, who loved each other, an older brother, Marcus, who was like my own personal super hero, and a little sister, Rosie, who idolized the ground I walked on." I stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath before I delved into some pretty horrible stuff.

"When I was eleven things went bad. I'd just found out that Rosie was diagnosed with Leukemia. She'd just turned five when she died." I paused, flashing a look at Punk.

He was avidly listening. Of course.

"Two years later, after all that grief, my parents were killed in a hit and run accident. By now I was thirteen and Marcus was twenty-one. So he was appointed by the courts to take care of me, and he did pretty well. But he never got over the fact that he was the cause of our parents' death, but the cops didn't know that."

"Wait, how did he cause their deaths?" Punk asked, interrupting my story.

I sucked in a breath, and jumped into some back story on my dear brother.

"So he's a good eight years older than me, and back then he'd made deals with some pretty bad people, and owed them quite a bit of money. So the accident was a pretty much a warning telling him to pay or else. He never did end up paying those loan sharks back, didn't have too. Dead men can't collect debts."

At that Punk sat up, propping himself up on his elbow, facing me. I was guessing even more curious now that I'd mentioned murder; I continued.

"So for three years I wasn't allowed out of Marcus's sight, because he was afraid they'd kill me too. I was sixteen-year-old girl with only two friends; my brother, and the weird blind kid everyone made fun of. My self-esteem was in the toilet, I sat alone at lunch, and on top of all that, I had this thing for everyone to talk about."

I stopped to point at the port-wine stain on my shoulder.

"So, it was a dark night, the loan shark's goons were trying to get into the house. I was home alone. Marcus had always told me, if the day came, to do was to go into my room, and hide in the secret compartment in my closet until he came to get me. So I did. It was two days later, and Marcus was covered in blood, thankfully none of it was his own. But apparently he'd gone and killed the loan shark. So he grabbed me, and we went to the police station. The next thing I know, I'm living in a group home with seven others kids each on four or five different medications. I ended up staying there until I was eighteen. It wasn't that bad though, they even let me continue my fighting career. And frankly, if they didn't I wouldn't have stayed. When I turned seventeen, my brother was sentenced to life in prison, with possible chance of parole. Considering the extenuating circumstances, like the fact that the loan shark ordered the hit on my parents, and on me, and that he was the scum of the earth, plus the fact that my brother turned himself in that same day, I was shocked that he didn't get a better deal. So once I was done with my training, I applied to the WWE, went to OVW, and the rest is history, I guess." I smiled.

I'd never told anyone the long version of my life before. I laid my head in my arms, my eyes staring at Punk. I was anxious to hear what he thought.


	5. A Deal With the Devil

Somehow, we'd gotten from my life story, to sex in like 10 seconds.

"Punk, I got to start my warm up." I reluctantly reminded him.

He was lying on top of me, his lips smoothing a path down my throat. I felt his breath rattle against my skin as he groaned.

Punk lifted his body off of mine, and rolled to the side. I got up and started to pull on my warm up clothes.

I'd just finished pulling on my shirt, and was looking for my shorts, when Punk spoke.

"It's funny how Karma works." I turned to see what he was talking about, only to see him holding in his hands the pair of shorts I'd just taken from him.

My jaw dropped.

"Oh come on! I need those!" I complained, crawling over the bed to try and snatch them. After a few vain attempts to retrieve the shorts, I had an idea.

"Fine, then I'll just go down to the gym in my underwear. I'm sure Sheamus or John would love to help me stretch." I taunted as I started to move off of the bed.

I heard Punk sigh, then he threw the shorts at me. "Thank you." I smiled, and kissed his nose.

After slipping on the shorts and tying the jog string, I turned to Punk. "Do _you _want to help me stretch?" he cocked a brow, but got up and pulled up his pants.

By now we'd spent a good half hour on stretching, and we just now working on the last bit. I was on my back, Punk over me, my leg on his shoulder. He was pushing my leg over my head, stretching out my hamstring.

Suddenly, the door to my hotel room burst open, exposing Johnny to our stretching session. "Oh god gross!" I rolled my eyes.

He was horrible.

"Eli's late, what's taking her so long!" I heard Kelly ask as she also came into view through the doorway. "Oh."

"What the hell people! What do you want? Can't I stretch in peace?" I complained, pulling my leg off of Punks shoulder, and down on his other side, leaving him between my legs.

"Uhhuh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Kelly smiled.

Johnny was behind her, making puking sounds and pretending to be sick. "You were supposed to meet me downstairs fifteen minutes ago. But I guess you had better things to do."

"Yeah, I'd much rather do Punk than you Kel, sorry." I winked at her. "But we were just finishing up. It's been a long time, so I was pretty tight." I laughed as I realized how bad that sounded.

They both got what I meant, but Johnny was just making a scene now.

"How the hell did you guys get in here anyways?" I asked now realizing that the door was locked before they came over.

"I forgot to give you back the keycard when we were here earlier." Kelly said pulling out the white card from her pocket. "But, really, we have to go, like now. We promised an hour of fan time." I groaned.

"Teddy with be there."

I shot her a look that said 'WOMAN! YOU'RE GOING TO GET ME IN TROUBLE!' Teddy as in Ted DiBiase, that is. I looked up at him, he just cocked his brow.

"Come on!" Kelly yelled from the hallway as she turned towards the elevator, Johnny followed her, closing the door. I looked at Punk with my innocent face.

"Gotta go." I said, leaning up to kiss him then rolling out from under him.

I ran around the room, slipping on my black leather jacket, and black Nikes. I grabbed my gear bag, it was empty. I groaned obnoxiously loud as I remembered that I'd spent a few good minutes throwing all my stuff around the room earlier.

So I spent another few minutes trying to find every piece of gear I needed. After those few minutes I thought I had it all.

"Ok, so I have boot one, boot two, shoulder tape, top…" I paused. "Shit, where are my bottoms?" I asked absentmindedly, starting to panic that I might have forgotten them somewhere else.

"Oh, do you mean these bottoms?" Punk asked, still sitting on the floor, but now on his back. I turned to see his face covered in that shit eating grin that I loved so much, who didn't?

"Only with you could I pull the same prank three times in a few hours." I smiled as I stepped towards him.

I knelt down on the floor, swinging one leg over his waist and placing my hands on his chest. "Oh, that won't work twice. You'll have to think of some other way." I paused a moment, quickly thinking of a new method.

"CM Punk, can I please have my bottoms?" I said sugar sweetly, batting my lashes. I slightly rubbed his chests with my fingertips.

I felt him heave a breath, and bring my bottoms to my hands.

"And only with you would I be able to beat you at your own game three times in a few hours." I teased leaning down towards his face.

I planted my lips on his, smiling the whole time. It wasn't twenty seconds later when the door abruptly opened again. "What the hell people! Why do you still have my key?" I yelled breaking away from Punk.

"Will you stop having sex? Let's go!" Johnny yelled back. I grumbled a few curses under my breath, but I knew I had to go.

I leaned down to kiss Punk again, then got up, bringing him with me.

"I got to go. I'll see you later. But you might want to get dressed first." I smiled, saying my goodbyes.

I grabbed my bag and walked out of the room towards the elevator with Johnny. "You know I hate you again right?"

"Yeah, I kind of figured." Johnny replied as we entered the waiting elevator with Kelly.

Kelly and I spent the better half of an hour with fans in the parking lot, like Teddy did almost every night. We signed autographs, took photos, ate some burgers, answered fan questions, and even arm wrestled some people; obviously I won.

By the time we were done there, it was time to get ready for the show. So Kelly and I spent the time in the locker room, getting dressed and stretching out.

"So, what did you spend all day doing?" Kelly asked reluctantly. I was just finishing lacing up my boots.

"Punk" I said looking up in time to see a queer look on Kelly's face. "What? I was!" that earned me the sisterly look she usually gave me when she was being serious and I was goofing off. "What? He came over after you left, confiscated my Jersey shorts, then boom. Or should I say bang."

But still, even after my hilarious jokes, Kelly still looked upset about something. "Seriously Kelly, what?" I asked now focusing my attention on her fully now. "I really did spend the rest of the day with Punk. We were talking mostly."

"Alright, I was just making sure we weren't going to have another Randy scandal on our hands." She explained.

After that the subject was dropped as other divas started to filter into the locker room.

I finished up the final touches of my ring gear, grabbed the shoulder tape, and headed to the trainer.

I was the only one in there while he wrapped my shoulder; that was a plus.

It was nice to have a few moments to myself without having Kelly or Johnny breathing down my throat. Or even Randy making everything awkward.

I just relaxed in the chair, and waited for the trainer to finish with my shoulder.

It was fifteen minutes later when I left the trainers office; I started my pre-show work out. It consisted of running around the arena a few times, stretching the hell out of my limbs, back and neck, and doing a few hundred sit ups and push-ups.

So when it came time for me to head to the ring for my big announcement with Punk, my blood was pumping and I was ready to go.

I went to the Gorilla, which is pretty much the waiting zone to get on stage, and instantly picked Punk out of the small crowd.

I stood next to him, and he bumped me with his elbow. He looked down at me with a look that said, 'kick some ass'; as I would in my match against Eve.

It was planned out that Punk was to escort me to the ring, then we would make our big announcement. I looked at the sound guy, nodded, then heard my music sound in the arena.

"You ready Chick Magnet?" I asked, bumping Punk with my elbow like he'd done earlier; barely able to keep a straight face.

He was obviously shocked by the name I'd just called him; I had to break my sober look.

"Oh yeah, that's right. I know things." I winked, and kissed him lightly, then left him only a few paces behind me as I walked out on to the stage.

The next thing I remember was the Ref raising my hand at the sound of the bell ringing. I quickly gathered my bearings, grabbed a microphone, and continued as planned.

"Now that that is over" I paused, huffing and puffing and trying to catch my breath. "I'd like to tell all my little jerks here and at home," I started, breaking to take another breath, with my usual attitude. "That this is just the beginning of my rise, the beginning of our rise!"

I motioned to Punk, hopefully now the WWE audience was thoroughly confused.

"I'm starting a new breed of wrestling. If to quote my friend here," I motioned to Punk again, "I want change. I'm done with skipping around the ring with a bunch of lightweight Barbie dolls, half of which have no backbone. I'm proposing a new division within the WWE, one with men and woman on an equal playing field. Separate but equal isn't quiet cutting it anymore."

From the crowd I heard some hollers of encouragement, but there were plenty of those against me. I opened my mouth to continue with my speech, when music started.

A flash of green light up the arena, and Motorhead started playing. I looked down at the stage, seeing the COO Triple H.

"Alright Eli, I'll take you up on making a change" Triple H started, but was cut off by Punk who had reached over and grabbed my microphone, still in my hand.

"But what's the catch?" he cocked a brow at the COO, who then continued.

"But the catch, as you put it Punk, is a test run. This Sunday, at Bragging Rights, you'll go up against Dolph Ziggler and Kaitlyn. If you win, you get your change. But if you lose, you never bring this to me again. Deal?" Triple H had left me with an ultimatum, and I hate ultimatums.

I looked at Punk for a moment, to make sure we were on the same page; he gave me a slight nod.

I contemplated it myself for a moment, Kaitlyn wasn't too much of a threat, but Dolph had made it a habit of getting involved in Punk's matches.

If it was an entertaining match Hunter wanted, then that's what he was going to get.

"Deal!" my jaw was set hard, my teeth clenched so tightly together, that one would think they would crack.

But Eli Strong didn't crack under pressure. Triple H simply nodded, and turned around a walked back towards the Gorilla. Punk and I followed suit moments later.


	6. Pushing The Envelope

"Eli! Are you out of your mind?" I heard Kelly yell from down a corridor backstage. I turned to see her jogging towards me.

"What do you mean? You knew I was making this announcement like a month ago." She shook her head.

"No, I mean you accepting the match that Triple H gave you! Do you not realize that Kaitlyn is bigger than you, and very pissed off at you?" I tilted my head curiously.

"Why the hell is she mad at me? I haven't even seen her in months!" Kelly just rolled her eyes, and yanked my ear down to her lips.

"You stole Punk, remember?" and suddenly I did. It'd been about three months ago, everyone knew Kaitlyn had a thing for Punk, but I guess I didn't.

I pursued Punk like it was my job.

I almost never left him alone, which eventually ended in up hooking up once, then twice, then for four months as a couple.

"Well she's a bitter little trite, isn't she?" Kelly gave me a look at the use of such a strange word.

"What? She is." Kelly just rolled her eyes.

"I just want you not to push her buttons too much alright? She's already bigger than you; don't give her the psych advantage too." I scoffed at Kelly's notion that I would be at any type of disadvantage.

But I did have to agree, Kaitlyn was a hell of a lot bigger than me.

"Kelly, I can take out Beth Phoenix with my eyes closed. I know everything about every Diva I've ever been in the ring with. This will be a piece of cake." I said, starting to take a few steps towards the locker rooms; Punk on one arm, Kelly on the other.

"No worries." I smiled my trademark 'I'm gunna get it done' smirk, when Kelly delivered the bad news that I would have eventually figured out.

"You've never been in the ring with her before." I sighed. I knew Kelly was right, she usually always is.

"Kel, I got this, like I said no worries." I said, the topic not continuing beyond that. I turned to Punk once we'd gotten to the door outside of the Divas locker room.

"I'll meet up with you in a little bit, alright? I got to go strategize." I said to him, gripping at his forearms, not wanting to let go.

"Why don't we go and strategize together?" I laughed, but he seemed completely serious.

"Ah, Babe, I cannot strategize with you. Because when I strategize I grapple. And when we grapple clothes fly off, then we'd get nothing done!" I smiled at the thought.

After I explained it, it did seem rather tempting.

"Alright, it's a valid point, I guess." He leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. "I'll see you later then." I smiled at him, and leaned up to kiss him again.

Once we pulled away, he turned and headed towards the viewing room where several other superstars sat to watch the show.

I turned to step into the Divas locker room when Kelly and I were ambushed by Kaitlyn and AJ. Frankly, I wasn't too intimidated.

Kaitlyn looked down at me with a dark look.

"Got a problem?" I asked sarcastically, I knew that would earn me a chastising from Kelly later, but hell it was worth it.

She didn't say a word, just made a huff, and stormed off.

I had a decent enough reason not to be intimidated, one, I was a four time Divas champion and, as I'd said earlier, could beat Beth Phoenix with my eyes closed.

And two, I was too damn arrogant to be intimidated.

"Didn't I tell you not to push her?" Kelly started in on me the moment we were into the locker room. "It's bad enough she say you ad Punk kissing, but you had to go and say something! Great!"

I couldn't resist laughing, which earned me a glare from Kelly.

"I'm serious! She was all laughing and giggling with AJ, then she rounds the corner to see you and Punk sucking face and practically goes Zena Princess Warrior on your ass!" I scoffed again at Kelly, which normally isn't something I do.

"Kel, I don't know how many times I need to tell you. But, I. Got. This. No. Worries. Capeesh?" she just sighed at my relentless arrogance, or what I liked to call 'confidence'.

"Now, who would be best equipped to help me figure out Kaitlyn?" I mentally thumbed through the Diva roster, both Smackdown and Raw.

Two names immediately came to mind; AJ and Natalya. And seeing as AJ is, one even smaller than me, and two totally up Kaitlyn's ass all the time.

My best bet would be Natalya, who just so happened to be sitting across the locker room from me. "Hey, Nat. You got a minute?"

At her nickname, Natalya looked up at me. She obliged and walked over to stand in front of me.

"You want to help me strategize against Kaitlyn for Sunday? Since you were her mentor and all, plus you're the same body type almost, I figured you'd know her best." She seemed to be interested, and eventually agreed to help.

The three of us spent a good hour or so going over what I would need to do to get Kaitlyn down and keep her that way. With the practice I was getting with Natalya, and the singles match scheduled for Friday on Smackdown, I was pretty sure I was set on grappling for now.

All I needed to do was keep up in my regular workouts, which as of late, had been a problem.

I'd gone and found Punk in the viewing room, he was chatting with Matt Striker on camera about our match this Sunday. I walked up next to him, turning the questioning from him to myself.

"Eli, do you feel confident about this Sunday? You've never been up against Kaitlyn before, what's your strategy?" I smiled at Matt, and answered.

"Matt, my strategy is the same as always, to win. Kaitlyn is no different than Natalya or Beth. Actually, she's smaller than them, and I can take them quiet easily. So the better question here would be, is Kaitlyn ready to be beaten by me?" at that Matt closed out on his interview, which left me and Punk to watch the show.

Just my luck, the match on involved Randy. "God, do we really have to watch this?" I grumbled, sitting down in a chair next to Punk. I looked down at me.

"Well, what would you want to do?" he asked, foolishly. I cocked my brow at him, lacing my fingers with his.

"That's not what I meant, Eli." He lightly chastised me for my perverted mind, I exaggerated a sigh.

"I meant would you want to go get some dinner from the café or something?"

"Jeeze, you should clarify that better next time." I laughed, keeping my hand with his.

"And yeah, I'm due for some protein. But before we go, you want to help me with my post-match stretches?" I tried to hide the little smirk on my face, but obviously Punk caught it.

"And where would you suggest we do this 'stretching'?" he asked with a hint of play in his voice.

I legitimately pondered for a moment, trying to think of an open enough location in the arena.

"I don't know, in the hallway?" that earned me a queer look from Punk.

"Isn't that a little public?" he furrowed his brow at me.

I sat there for a moment and honestly tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

"Hey! That's not what I meant! I actually meant stretching! Jeeze, get your head out of the gutter!" I heard Punk start in laughing with me a second later.

"So you want to or not?" I asked; Punk gave me a questioning look.

"Help me stretch of course." I smiled, standing up. I extended my hand to Punk, who immediately took it.

I lead him down a few different hallways, and into one that didn't seem to be being used at the moment.

At first I did some solo stretching, like my arms and neck. Then I started to get Punk involve. Within a matter of moments, my back was against the cool concrete wall, and my chest was against Punk.

He had the side of his hip pressed to the wall between my legs; his hand was on my other leg, pushing it up the side of the wall. The point was to stretch out my hamstring and groin.

But it was just a great position to be locked in with Punk.

"That good or more?" he asked as he stopped pushing my leg up. The tow of my boot was just now level with my head.

"More." I said, my voice starting to rasp. He started to press on my leg again and slowly but surely, my muscles started to burn. "More." I rasped again, my voice now lower. "Mo- right there. Right there." I groaned slightly at the annoyance the pain caused me. "Ok, slowly let me go." Punk did exactly as I asked, and perfectly at that.

Once my leg was all the way down, we switched sides. My other leg went a little bit farther, seeing as it was my Roundhouse leg.

I let out a few more groans as the muscles in my legs clenched then relaxed. After that, we made our way to the café, where there would be plenty of burgers for me to consume to prevent lactic acid buildup.

I was sitting with Punk, diving into a second burger, when Kelly barreled into the room, and looking quiet frazzled at that. She scanned the room; her eyes landed on me and she b-lined it for me.

At first I was amused at her panic, then as she got closer; her panic seemed to be over more than just Kaitlyn being my opponent at Bragging Rights.

"Kel, what's wrong?" she didn't say anything until she was sitting in the chair next to me, out of breath.

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!"

"I was in a hallway with Punk stretching! Why? What's wrong?" my instincts started to kick in at the thought of something physically upsetting Kelly this much.

"You two have been together this whole time?"

"Yeah, I met up with him once I left you. I even did an interview with Matt. Why? What is wrong?" I asked, now starting to panic myself.

Kelly never panicked this much, and if she did it always had something to do with me.

"Well, I was in the locker room minding my own business, and AJ barrels in all in a hot fuss and starts screaming to Kaitlyn about someone having sex in a hallway. So I started listening closer, and I found out that AJ had passed you two while you were in the hallway!" for the first time in a long time, I was struck speechless.

"What the hell kind of stretching were you two doing?"

"The kind we were doing earlier when you and Johnny came to get me." I said, bringing her back to a few hours earlier.

Punk and I had been on the floor, in a rather provocative position, but still genuinely stretching. I saw her brows rise as she too remembered the sight.

"And I don't think your groaning helped AJ any either." Punk added, just now jumping in on the conversation.

I was about to open my mouth to agree, when the café doors burst open again, only this time a much more upset, and extremely less beautiful, Diva then Kelly had been entered the room.

Her eyes landing on me and I instantly stood, ready for any bullshit that was surly going to start flying. Kaitlyn came charging forward, AJ hot on her heels.

At the sight of AJ, Kelly instantly stood up next to me, willing to go down with me, like a true best friend.

"Eli, don't start anything." Punk said scooting his seat out, ready to jump on me at a moment's notice.

I'd heard similar advice earlier, from Kelly, and I couldn't help but deny it then, but this was coming from Punk and it wasn't a request.

"Hey, Eli, I heard some interesting rumors about you today." Kaitlyn started; a fake smile across her lips all the while.

"Huh, then that's all they are, rumors. Probably some little girl passed by and thought she saw something she didn't." I said, obviously noting AJ as the 'little girl'.

"But a lot of rumors do have some truth to them. You can't be sure nowadays." I couldn't resist, I just had to push it. Kaitlyn's face hardened and her fists balled.

I faintly heard Punk say my name to try and reel me back from taunting this beastly woman in front of me too much.

"Well there are other little girls who go around here that steal stuff that isn't theirs. Those girls don't usually last very long, if you catch my drift."

Kaitlyn didn't do the whole intimidation thing very well; frankly she had a too soft face that I could never take seriously.

"You can't steal what never belonged to someone else." I felt a smirk break out across my face. "And now he's mine, remember that."

I'll agree, it was a bold statement, but it was completely true.

Punk was mine now, and I wasn't planning on giving him up anytime soon, least of all without a fight.

I felt Punk's hand grab mine, and start to tug. He was muttering my name, close to my ear, and he didn't sound too happy.

Finally I succumbed to his urging to leave, and let myself follow him. Kelly was right behind me, and eventually next to me.

I laced my fingers with Punks as we walked away from a scene that was surly going to explode if we hadn't. I knew Kaitlyn would be watching us as we left.

Walking away never felt so good.

And the unprompted kiss from Punk onto our linked hands made walking away that much greater.


	7. Eat My Shorts!

**WARNING! This is why it's rated M!**

By the time I'd convinced Kelly it was ok to leave my side, and that Kaitlyn wouldn't come and jump me, the show had ended.

Punk and I were headed out the door and signing a few dozen autographs along the way to a cab we'd called earlier.

The cab ride back to the hotel was a rather quiet one, other than the cabbie asking a bunch of fan questions that I was all too willing to answer.

Punk and I had our hands still linked as we entered the elevator.

I was hoping for a quiet ride up to my room, and some alone time to talk to Punk about what had happened earlier with Kaitlyn, but seconds before the door closed, Randy slipped into the elevator.

I could tell Punk was steaming about something, and just itching to take it out on anyone, and since Randy just lost his match, everyone knew to keep their distance.

I was literally trapped in a tin box with two hot heads.

"Hey Eli." I heard Randy say from next to me.

I didn't dare make eye contact, not with an angry Punk standing next to me.

"I saw your match, you did well. Your announcement was, unexpected."

"Thanks Randy." I replied, trying to end the conversation right then and there, but Randy pressed on.

"Yeah, how'd you even come up with that idea? It's sounds-" and at that Punk finally burst.

"Can't you tell that she doesn't want to talk to you? Just back the fuck off of her! She's not into you anymore!" Punk stepped towards Randy, who naturally had a short fuse, and was just coming down from the rage of a loss.

Randy also stepped forward, fists balled.

I wrapped my arms around Punk, and tried to push him backwards, but Randy made up the difference.

"Why don't you just shut your damn mouth for once Punk, before I shut it for you?" Randy exclaimed.

I could feel the tension go from 0-60 in less than a second.

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try that Orton!" Punk tried to lunge at him, but I had a good enough gasp on him to push him back.

Randy took another step forward, his fists rising. I stuck out my hand and tried to push him back.

No matter the extent of my fighting skills, I would never be able to push aside a man as big and angry as Randy. It took all my strength to keep Punk from slipping past me.

The elevator ride couldn't have come to a close faster.

Once the doors opened, I managed to kick our bags into the hallway, and force Punk out with me. I didn't let him go until the doors were closed, and Randy was gone.

"What the hell was that?" I asked with a sharp edge to my voice, after I dared to let him go.

Punk raked his fingers through his hair, obviously distraught.

"What's wrong?" I asked gentler this time, I took a small step towards him.

"God, I don't know. I just..." he exhaled a big breath, and started to walk towards my room.

"I guess I just snapped. I was already frustrated from earlier, and I knew how awkward Randy made you fell…" I picked up the two gym bags I'd kicked, and walked up next to Punk.

"We can go talk about it if you want?" I asked stepping in front of him to unlock my hotel door. I stepped inside and looked back at Punk.

He was obviously still pissed off about something, and I figured talking would cool him down.

But he just stood in the doorway rubbing his brow and shaking his head. For a moment I thought that maybe he didn't want to talk to me, and it made my chest hurt.

"Unless you don't want to…" I trailed off.

I suddenly started to feel awkward standing there with Punk. But before I could react to the strange feeling, Punk had taken a step towards me and slammed the door shut behind him.

His lips pressed against mine hard, one of his hands were placed on the back of my neck, the other was on my hip pulling me towards him. Without thinking, my own hands were making tracks over his body.

As our kiss deepened, and our tongues glided together with ease, I felt his hand on my hip slip lower down my body.

The hand slipped along the mesh fabric of the shorts I'd worn to the arena earlier, his fingers pressed into the heat that was rapidly building within me. The pressure of his fingers sent my heart into overdrive, my hands rushed into his short hair and pulling him even closer.

We started to take a couple of uneven steps towards the king sized bed behind us, kicking our shoes off along the way.

My back was now pressed against the soft pillow top mattress, my jacket being pealed from arms.

Once my arms were free, I gripped at the bottom of Punks shirt and pulled it over his head. My hands instantly landed on his chest, which was one of my favorite places on his body.

Unlike any of the other guys I'd slept with, Punks chest wasn't chiseled, and I liked it.

Punks' rapid fingers had already been reaching around my back and unhooking my bra from under my red tank top. Both of which were quickly casted aside, and he was already working on untying the jog string of my shorts.

I couldn't help but laugh at his discouraged face when he couldn't get it untied.

"What are you some sort of Army knot tying expert?" Punk grumbled pulling on all the strings.

I laughed again reaching down and pulled on one string.

I watched as Punks face fell at the sight of how easily I'd undone what he'd been outwitted by.

But not a moment passed and he was already pulling them, along with my underwear, down my legs. Punk quickly threw then behind him, barely letting the fabric touch his skin.

"What, hate Jersey that much?" I asked, vainly keeping my breath even while his lips worked their magic on my stomach, then further south.

"No," Punk said between the feverish kisses.

"I just hate those shorts that much." I dug my fingers into his slick brown hair, which was now at my waist line.

"Aw, why?" I rasped breathlessly.

Punk was teasing the flesh of my thighs with hot kisses, then back up to my abdomen.

He pulled back, which earned him a whimper from my lips, and started at his pants button and fly.

"They were in the way." He smirked as his slipped his pants and boxers down his thighs.

I sat up, gripped the back of his neck, and pulled him back over me. I kissed his hard, as he finished shimmying his pants down his long legs.

A long few moments passed with the two of us just lying there kissing each other.

I arched my back, and ground my hips against his, reminding both of us the burning fire that fueled between us. Instead of the smooth glide Punk usually made inside of me, this was a hard slam.

Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed every second of it.

But I would have loved it more with a warning.

With such a surprise, my lungs released a stunned moan. My fingers dug into his back at the sheer intensity of my release.

His name came off of my lips in choppy pieces, like my breath. His pace somehow quickened from its already lightning fast thrusts, sending me reeling towards another glass shattering orgasm.

His cheek was pressed against my temple, I could hear the grunted he made with every push, and how he too was spiraling towards completion. His breathing quickened, while mine caught in my throat at the impending sensation.

My breath stopped in my throat for what seemed like forever, the torture finally ending with the involuntary clenching of my inner walls around his erection that burst a half a moment after I came.

Punk took a sharp intake as his body collapsed on top of mine, forcing any breath I'd managed to take right out again.

He just laughed tiredly, pulled out, kissed me, and rolled to the side.

"Sorry about that." He forced out between rapid breaths. I smiled while stroking his hair that I'd made a mess of, back into place.

His eye lids were starting to droop fast, not surprising after all the work he'd just done. I slipped my other hand down into his that was lying between us, and brought it to my lips, mimicking what he'd done only hours earlier. His mouth made a faint smile, and his eyes closed.

I was still stroking his hair when his breathing slowed down, and I assumed he'd fallen asleep. I slowly sat up, feeling a dull pain strike me below my waist.

"Oh, that's going to be sore tomorrow." I muttered reaching towards the foot of the bed at the down comforter I'd kicked there the night before.

I draped it over the two of us, and drifted off into my own slumber, fingers still locked with Punk.


	8. Baby, My Tears are a Dime a Dozen

***Jeeze! They're like fucking bunnies! WARNING AGAIN! M=MATURE!* Remember to review. thanks. **

When I'd woken up Punk and I had ended up in completely different positions. We were aimed towards the foot of the bed, I was on my back, and Punk on his stomach, his arm was draped over my chest.

I reached in front of me, for the remote controller to the TV. If I was going to be trapped, I might as well pass the time doing something.

I inched the controller closer towards me with my fingertips, being careful not to let it fall off the table it was on. I clicked on the 50 inch television that also resided at the foot of the bed.

There usually wasn't anything good on TV at nine o'clock in the morning, so I settled on a marathon of the old Batman cartoons. Watching TV helped the time pass, but hunger didn't wait for Punk to wake up on his own.

After my stomach grumbled, I did too.

I hated having to wake up such an adorable sight, and one I never got to see that often.

I stared at Punks face for another few moments, trying to memorize it, knowing it would be another long while until I saw it again.

I started to pet his hair, like I'd done last night, and I spoke his name softly.

"Punk, wake up." Again, I stroked his air lightly out of his face. The warmth of his face started to warm up my usual chilly fingers. "Punk…" I said again, now with a sing-song tone in my voice.

I ran my fingers down his back, the cool sensation causing the muscles in his back to tighten on contact. His eyes started to flutter open.

"Hey." I smiled. But instead of getting a smile in return, Punk groaned and rolled to his side.

The arm that was draped over me grabbed my waist and pulled me into him.

"Ah, ow, ow." My mutterings of pain earned me a furrowed brow from a closed eye Punk.

"What's wrong?" his throat rumbled, his voice was always raspy in the morning.

I nuzzled my face into his chest, trying to ignore the painful ache that was between my thighs.

"You broke my vagina." I muttered after a few moments. Punk just laughed.

"I'm serious. You were pretty rough last night." I whined, closing my eyes and soaking in the warmth from Punks chest.

"Well, if I make you breakfast will that make you feel better?" now it was my turn to laugh.

"What?"

"As much as I love forcing down the stuff you call food. I think I'd better enjoy something edible this morning."

"Oh yeah? Your cooking isn't much better." He retorted, and it was true.

My cooking was just as bad, if not worse.

"Yeah, I was thinking that you could go pick up that phone and dial room service, because that would be great." I smiled into his chest, but was frowning quickly when he started to move.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" I grumbled, keeping my fingers tight around his waist.

"You want breakfast or not?" I paused a moment, thinking it over.

"Nah, I can do without." I said pulling him back down towards me. But as if wanting to betray me, my stomach growled.

"Nope, I'm calling for food." And at that his warmth was oh so far away. I could barely touch him with the tips of my fingers.

I heard him talking to the room service people and order us some food.

I knew that they would be outside my room door soon so I decided to get up and put on a robe or something.

I let out a yelp of pain as I started to sit up, it instantly forcing me to lie back down.

"And a heating pad!" I groaned before Punk finished his call.

Being absolutely amazing, he quickly relayed my need to the other line.

A few seconds later he hung up the phone, and rejoined me at the foot of the bed.

"Were you watching Batman all morning?" he asked me with a questioning look. I nodded.

"Huh, that explains why I was having a dream about zip-lining into the empire state building." he muttered.

"Hm, you in tights must be awesome!" I said, laughing.

Punk was also lying on his back, watching Batman upside down like I had all morning. I tried to flip over and lay my head on his chest, but the same ache shot up from below my waist.

I groaned as I landed with a thump on Punks chest. "Hey, be easy!" at his words I let out a single bark of laughter.

"Take your own advice!" I grumbled as I stroked my fingers up and down his stomach.

He just laughed it off.

"I love your stomach." I muttered absentmindedly.

"What?" Punk asked me, making me realize that I'd just said that out loud.

I quickly made a recovery.

"Nothing." My palm now laying down flat on his stomach.

"No, tell me what you said." I shook my head no.

"Don't make me force it out of you." I shrugged, honestly curious as to what he'd do.

"Fine, be that way." He said, as he started to move away from me.

"No!" I yelled, grabbing his waist and pulling his back towards me with all my strength. But he was still pulling away.

"Alright, I'll tell you!" I grumbled at the fact that I was the one who had to submit.

"I said that I liked your stomach…" I mumbled.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't quiet hear you? Can you repeat that?"

I sighed, and did so. "A little louder."

And again, I admitted to him my embarrassment.

"Aw, I know you can do it. That's all I heard last night!" I let out a giggle, and repeated myself one last time.

"I like your stomach!" I was thankful that he couldn't see my face, that was beat red.

"Happy?" I grumbled as I continued tracing lines on the smooth skin.

There was a quick silence.

"Why?" that got me to turn my head towards him.

I gave him a queer look, my brows furrowed and my jaw slightly opened.

"I mean, it's not even close to washboard down there." I nodded like he was an idiot.

"Oh come on, you cannot tell me that you don't like Zigglers rippling 6-pack!" I cracked a smile from my dumb struck look.

"Hell yeah I like Dolphs abs, who doesn't!" I started, earning me a pair of furrowed brows.

"But, I don't know, I like this better." I said looking at his unconvinced face.

"I'm serious! I don't know, I guess because there are no speed bumps." He cocked his brow.

"It's just smooth, and soft, and wonderful!" I yelled the last bit then leaned down and kissed right below his 'Straight Edge' tattoo that rounded around the best part of flesh.

Punks hand then came to the top of my head, and mimicked what I was doing last night, stroking my hair.

I heard the occasional laugh come from his throat, I assumed he was still watching Batman, but I kept making designs on his rising and falling belly.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door; room service. I groaned at the thought of Punk getting up.

I tried to keep him from moving, when he reminded me of the gold.

"Your heating pad is here." I gasped excitedly and pushed him off the bed.

"Quick! Go get it!" Punk just laughed, but I was completely serious.

I needed that bitch.

Again there was a knock on the door; Punk quickly put on a robe that was randomly on the floor.

My hotel rooms were usually like that, a mess.

The day I got into a room I would put the 'do not disturb' sign on the door handle and leave it there until I left. I had a thing about where my stuff was, and I didn't like random people walking into my room and moving shit. So usually when I checked out of the room I left a rather generous tip for whoever cleaned that pigsty.

When Punk opened the door he was careful not to let the bed fall into the line of sight from the door. I had to feel for the guy who did the room service; he had to have seen some pretty awkward things in his day.

After another second Punk wheeled over a cart with two plates on it, and a heating pad draped over the handle.

My eyes were once again glued to the old children's show when Punk threw the blue square at me.

"Oh! It's cordless!" I exclaimed probably a little too excitedly. I instantly turned it on high, and shamelessly slapped that bitch right between my legs. I let out a sigh.

"That feels so much better." I muttered to myself.

After a few minutes I already started to feel better, enough so that I could sit up and wobble over to the rooms table to eat.

Along the way I grabbed my red flannel shirt that had been carelessly discarded last night, and put it on. Punk and I ate the breakfast, toast, eggs, and bacon, in a comfortable silence.

We even moved to the couch when we'd finished eating, and continued watching the Batman cartoons.

"What happened yesterday with you and Kaitlyn?" Punk asked, looking down at me; my head on his thigh.

I stared at him, not entirely sure what to do.

All I knew was that, for some reason, I had to repress the urge to taste my breakfast a second time this morning.

"I mean, it seemed a little more intense that being upset that two co-workers supposedly having sex in a hallway." I took a deep breath, trying to gather what exactly I would say to him.

"You're happy with me right?" I asked unexpectedly.

Punk seemed taken aback, but he didn't hesitate on his answer.

"Hell yes!" he seemed almost insulted that I even asked. "What does that have to do with Kaitlyn?"

I took another deep breath and sat up. I reached down to the floor and grabbed the Jersey shorts that Punk had thrown last night, and slipped them back up my legs.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't want to talk about Kaitlyn when I have no pants on." I grumbled.

But really I didn't want to talk about Kaitlyn at all.

But I lied back down, resting my head on Punks leg. I replaced the heating pad, and continued with the story.

"So I guess a few months ago, Kaitlyn had a thing for some superstar and I supposedly 'stole' him from her." I summarized, I could see in Punks eyes he knew it was a little deeper than that.

"I didn't for one. I didn't even know she liked him! It's not my fault she took to damn long to make her move." I muttered that last bit, but Punk heard it.

"Eli, I heard what you said. He's yours now. What does that mean?" I looked up at him with a look that told him that he should know the answer.

After another few seconds, it clicked. "Oh"

"Yeah, oh is right." I said, turning my head back towards the TV.

"Hey, why is this just coming out now?" I groaned silently, and turned back to his face.

"I haven't seen Kaitlyn in months. I didn't even know she was mad at me until last night when Kelly told me! And I'll bet all sorts of money that she requested to be part of that tag-team match Sunday, just to get some sort of twisted revenge because she thinks that if I didn't make my own move on you, this would be you and her. But I've got news for her! I don't go down without a fight! And on Sunday I'm not planning on losing! So she can suck that, bitch!" I rambled; now staring at the ceiling like it could relay my message to Kaitlyn.

Once I'd stopped, I glanced at Punk, his brow raised in surprise.

I let out a huff of a breath, and turned back, once again, to the TV screen.

"Well, just so you don't worry, this wouldn't be me and her. I can't think of another girl out there who would sit with a heating pad on her crotch and willingly watch old 1990s cartoons with me all morning."

I turned back to him, looking him in the eyes.

"So you two would be doing something else then?" I asked with nothing but attitude in my voice.

I was completely serious, but Punk laughed.

"No. I mean me and her would have never happened. Ever. The day you jumped me, I'd already decided I was going to ask you out." Now it was my turn to raise my brows in surprise.

"Oh really?" I played, saying the words in my horrible English accent.

"Yeah, I had it all planned out and everything." Punk smiled, my brows somehow continued to rise.

"Oh really?" I said again in the same voice, but in a slightly higher pitch.

Punk just smiled at me, petted my hair, and turned back to the screen.

"No, no, no, no, no. You have to tell me what your plan was! I need to know now!" I pressed, sitting up.

I sat on my knees next to him, trying to con him into telling me.

"No, it's really embarrassing!"

"What? You forced me to tell you about the stomach thing! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was! It was bad!" but Punk just stayed solid, not willing to give in.

I had to give it to him, he had a hell of a lot more resolve than I did.

But he didn't have the ace in the hole that I did.

I scooted myself along the couch until I reached the other arm. I balled my legs under me, folded my arms on the couch armrest, and put my head down.

I waited a few moments before I started with the waterworks.

At first it was just a cough and a few sniffles, but when I felt Punks weight shift on the couch I amped it up to soft sobs.

"Eli, I know you're not really crying." But judging by his tone of voice, he wasn't entirely sure.

Little did many people know, but I was a champion crier.

I could fake cry in my sleep.

So convincing Punk that a few drops on my face were the beginning of a meltdown was easy.

I threw my head up and shot him a dirty look from behind blurry eyes. But I did see his face fall as he caught sight of the two or three streaks of water running down my cheeks.

"Oh shit." Punk muttered, I turned a buried my face back into my arms.

"Eli, come on. It's not anything to cry over! Please, stop crying!" he pleaded, but I just sobbed louder.

"Why is it that I can open my heart and tell you my deepest darkest secrets, but you can't even tell me this one little thing?"

I felt Punk try to soothe me with a touch to the arm, but I flinched away.

I kind of felt bad for that part when I heard him gasp at my rejection. He started to stumble over his words, giving away that he was caving in.

"I planned on asking Kelly to send you out on an errand for her, and have someone else kind of kidnap you and take you away to this random place. And like a half hour later I would come barreling in and sweep you off your feet."

I could hear the blush rush across his cheeks.

I propped my head in my hand and looked at him, my gimmick over with.

"Why didn't you? That sounds awesome!" I asked there wasn't a trace of the fact that I'd been crying in my voice.

After the initial shock of my immediate recovery from the massive fit I seemed to have just had, Punk's jaw dropped.

"You were faking it?" he seemed genuinely stunned at the fact that I could, not only cry, but utterly breakdown on command.

"How could you do that? I felt so bad!"

"That was the point, to guilt you into telling me." I smiled at him, but he still had that look of utter betrayal on his face.

"Ok, I'll admit, maybe me flinching away was a bit over board. But come on, I could have won an Academy award for that performance! And not all of it was faked. I meant what I said though."

"Yeah, well the flinching was a little more than a bit over board. I thought you were really mad at me!"

I smiled at him and scooted back along the couch next to him, wiping the tear trails from my cheeks.

"I could never be mad at you." I leaned up and kissed his cheek, and snuggled into his side; his arm wrapped around my shoulders.

"Would you be mad at me if I lied to you?"

I instantly pulled back to look at his face, my brow furrowed.

"Depends, what was it about?" I asked, preparing for the worse.

"About why I freaked out last night." I cocked a brow at him, urging him to continue.

"Ok, so it wasn't completely a lie. I was mad because of Randy making you uncomfortable, but I really started to lose it when I thought about how you said you two used to hook up in elevators all the time. And he was obviously trying to hit on you. So I just lost it."

"Psh, I wouldn't be mad! If anything I would be turned on." I paused, thinking about last night.

"Did it just get hot in here?" I asked, fanning myself with my hand. Punk smirked.

"I thought your vagina was broken?"

I grabbed the heating pad from between my legs and threw it behind the couch.

"It's good enough. Let's go." I said standing and pulling Punk back towards the bed. He just laughed, and followed me obediently.

I threw him down on the bed and crawled on top of him.

"But just in case, we should stay like this. So you don't break me more." I said as I straddled his hips.

"No complaints here." Punk said unbuttoning my shirt and pealing it off of my arms.

I snaked my hand down his chest and to the front of the white robe he still wore. I rubbed my hand over where I felt his erection building, taunting it more.

Punk's hands were busy shaking up my legs and pulling down my shorts.

"These damn shorts again! Seriously, you're not allowed to wear them anymore!" I pretended to pout.

"But they make my butt look fantastic!" I reminded him; he seemed to be deliberating it for a moment.

"Very true. Ok, you can wear them." He decided, finally getting the shorts down far enough to where I could get them off myself.

I casted them aside quickly enough, and toyed with the knot of his robe. My swift fingers were past that obstacle with ease, and were tracing along that stomach I loved so much.

While I was reveling in the feel of Punk's torso and watching it rise and fall in time with my every touch, he pressed his hips upward and against my sopping wet clit.

I let out a pleasantly surprised moan, not wasting any more time. I slowly glided his hardened member into me, it fitting almost perfectly.

My muscles were still sore from last night, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain. Punk's hands on my hips helped me make a rhythm that matched his thrusts.

My fingers flexed against his chest, feeling like they were missing something. I groaned out of agitation, and stopped moving.

"What's wrong, why'd you stop?" Punk asked looking honestly heartbroken.

"Dammit, this isn't working as well as I thought it would!" he coked a brow at me.

"I can't do it. I don't care if I get hurt more, it will totally be worth it!" I grumbled as I slipped Punk out of me and flopped onto my back next to him.

I turned my head to see his dumbstruck face staring at me.

"That's your queue." I whispered to him, snapping him from his momentary lapse of higher functioning.

I'd just stopped in the middle of sex; anyone would be a bit distraught.

"I can't make any promises." He taunted from above me as he leaned his lips down to the soft skin of my nape. His hand glided down my inked torso, to my hips, a finger slipped inside me making me gasp.

"Oh, no promises at all." I mumbled against my skin. His hot breath made my nipple go hard. I whimpered his name near his ear, earning me another finger in me. I moaned as his digits made torturous circles inside me.

His wrath lasted a few more seconds, when he felt my walls start to clench, and heard my breath catch in my throat. Punk pulled his fingers from me, and had his face hover over mine.

"That was payback for the fake crying." I almost cried out of sheer agony at his words.

He'd gotten me all riled up with his game, but I was far too gone to appreciate anything other than sweet release.

"Punk, please!" I moaned breathlessly, barely able to keep from reaching down and finishing the job myself.

At my desperate pleas Punk's lips came down hard on mine, his tongue leaving no space of my mouth untouched. I arched my hips into his burning member, it quickly sliding into me.

At that he started his fast and hard pumping, shaking my whole body to the core.

My fingers quickly found their home within his dark brown locks. Punk's forehead rested on mine, our lips occasionally skimming each other in time with his thrusts.

I moaned as I felt my resolve quickly ending, he started to go deeper and harder, mimicking the motions that caused the mind blowing, body shattering, release from last night.

With his name leaving my lips once more, every muscle in my body clenched with the sheer aggressiveness of the orgasm that hit me. My low moans and cries turned to screams or pleasure at the top of my lungs.

Punk kept his pumping as I came down from the head trip I'd just gone through, I could barely catch my breath before I was sent into an even harder orgasm, even faster.

Another one hit me the second that one ended, I could feel Punk coming with me to release this time. I held out as long as I could, but the ferocity and burn this one built in me was too strong for me.

My fingers dug into the back of his neck, earning me a gasp in my ear from Punk.

My name escaped his lips more than once in the next few seconds; this one would be big for him too. My muscles clenched hard, milking him dry almost immediately.

Punk rolled to my side, clasping my hand in his.

We both lied there, trying to catch the breath that had escaped us both. Finally, minutes later, our breath started returning and our pores stopped secreting sweat.

I smiled at Punk, "Woah."

"Woah is right! Holy shit!" he agreed.

But we didn't get to celebrate our earth shattering revelations for very long before Kelly and Johnny sounded outside my door.

"What?" I snapped at them, not appreciating the post-sex interruption.

"Eli, it's about time to check out. We came by the see if you were all packed." Kelly explained.

"Alright, give me a minute!" again I barked at them.

I doubt that I actually meant to yell, but I was still coming down from the aggressiveness of the three riveting earthquakes I'd just gone through.

We lied there another few minutes, then decided, reluctantly, to get dressed.

I still had to find all my clothes from when I threw everything around yesterday.


	9. Today's Gunna Be A Good Day

"God, took you long enough." Kelly started when I opened the door to throw my bags out.

"Yeah, well, we were busy before you rudely interrupted us." I grumbled, and turned back towards the room.

"Are you done yet?" I asked Punk from the door.

"Seriously, where the hell are my pants?" Punk asked.

I just laughed and pointed under the bed where the end of a leg was sticking out.

"How the fuck did they get under there?" he muttered, slipping them on.

He grabbed his sweatshirt and gym back, and came up behind me at the door.

"I got to go to my room." Punk reminded me, I groaned.

But he kissed my cheek and slithered around me towards the elevator.

"Take this." I barked to Johnny who was empty-handed at the moment, throwing my rather large suitcase at him.

He grunted as he caught it, he was about to protest when Kelly shot him a look.

He just stuck out his tongue at us.

"What was that for?" I asked Kelly as we walked towards the elevator that Punk had disappeared into moments before.

"Well since last night was intense, I figured you'd still be a little ripe over it." She explained as we stopped at the elevator, and she pressed the button.

"Why are you hobbling?" she asked moments later, after we'd exited the elevator in the lobby.

I'd almost completely forgot about that.

"Let's just say it was a rough night." I smiled, glancing at both Kelly and Johnny.

Kelly took it like an adult and shrugged it off.

But Johnny just had to go with the eleven-teen-year-old angle.

He pretended to start gaging, and even stopped to bend over and pretend to puke.

I had to give it to him; he was dedicated.

"What, you look at yourself in the mirror?" I smirked.

He just leaned up and gave me a playful dirty look.

"Eli, are you hungry? We were going to have breakfast before we left." Kelly asked, turning us both back to being adults.

"Nah, I already had some." I said still smirking.

Kelly shot me a curious glance.

"No I really did!" I reassured her.

She just turned back towards the hotel restaurant.

"Well I didn't, so I'm getting some food." She said dragging Johnny and me along with her.

Johnny left the bags at the front desk, and we went and sat at a table.

The restaurant was lighter than it was last night, seeing as it was morning.

Within moments we were being waited on.

After all the morning sweating I did, I was hungry again.

A minute or so after the waiter left, I caught a glance of Punk in the lobby looking around.

I excused myself from the table and went to get him.

But before I could get there, Kaitlyn walked up to him; my temper immediately sky-rocketed.

But instead of flying off the handle, I approached seeming relatively calm and un-phased by her blatant attempted at a head game.

"That's where you went." I said lightly grabbing Punk's arm, then turned my head to Kaitlyn.

"Oh hey Kaitlyn, how's your morning?"

I smiled at her; she was obviously taken off guard at my pleasant words.

"Good, but I should be going." She said as she turned away.

But she stopped.

"Oh, Eli, about Friday…" she began.

Seeing my face, she continued.

"I wanted to ask if you would be interested in placing a bet on our match?" she asked, I cocked a brow.

"What kind of bet?" she smiled.

"The kind that if I win, I get Punk as my tag-team partner for Sunday."

She thought she was so smart didn't she?

I laughed.

"Alright, I'll play your game." I said shaking her hand, it was a good long shake before either of us let go.

After we released each other's hands, she turned and walked away, still smirking.

"I'm gunna love kicking her ass." I muttered.

"Do you really think that that was a good idea?" Punk asked reminding me he was still there.

"Absolutely." I said giving Punk a dumb look.

"It means I'm in her head, and crushing her spirits will be that much easier."

Now he gave me a dumb look.

"She'll be too distracted about winning the prize, that she'll never see me coming."

"Won't you be distracted at the thought of losing the prize?" I scoffed at his words.

"I'm not going to lose. So there is no need to worry."

He just rolled his eyes chuckled at my cockiness, or confidence.

We walked back into the restaurant and joined Kelly and Johnny for breakfast.


	10. What To Do, What To Do

**YAY! Chapter 10! And it's not even half done! I still have seven more I'm editing, and i'm writing new stuff everyday! I hope you like the story so far! Please remember to review! I love feedback, good and bad! Thanks, Skee.**

We'd spent the next few days mostly driving to fan locations and house shows, so when Friday came I was super excited to get the hell off that bus!

Sure I loved staying with Kelly and Johnny in a cramped bus for three days, but enough was enough.

We pulled up to another fancy hotel and we all spill out of our busses.

"Hey, do you want to get one room tonight?" Punk asked me quietly.

I looked at him in surprise.

He usually wasn't so shy.

"I mean, because we usually stay in one room anyways and it's just a hassle to run around getting our stuff when it's time to leave."

"Sure!" I almost yelled.

We made our way to the front desk, and booked one room.

Kelly was behind me, she looked at me.

"What?"

"One room?" she asked raising both her blonde brows.

I nodded vigorously, a smile on my face the whole time.

She smiled back at me then Johnny chimed in.

"Ew, that means you're going to be sleeping with a pedophile!" I narrowed my eyes at him, he just smiled that 'don't be mad at me smile'.

That always made me laugh and prevented me from actually being mad at him.

Instead, I just stuck out my tongue at him.

He laughed too.

"So the four of us will meet up later to go to the arena?" Kelly asked after she and Johnny had finished checking into their rooms.

"Yep, we'll meet you guys here an hour before hand?" I asked she nodded in agreement.

At that we separated and Punk and I went to our room.

Once we were up there, I dropped my bag and looked at Punk.

"Now what?" I asked completely baffled as to what we could spend our whole day doing.

"Uh, I don't know. I usually worked out when I wasn't with you."

"Ok, so let's go to the gym for a bit and work out." I suggested grabbing my gym bag that held my workout clothes.

Punk and I quickly changed, but not without some sort of sexual innuendo here or there, and we eventually made it down to the gym.


	11. How Could I Forget About You, Honey?

When I entered the Gym, I was alone. Punk had decided, foolishly, to go for a run outside.

In the mushy, mid-November snow.

I, on the other hand, had the presence of mind to not go out in the freezing cold, especially in my only pair of sneakers.

But I wasn't really alone in the gym; I had been joined by a few other superstars including Eve and Natalya.

We spent the time I was there talking about my match tonight with Kaitlyn.

I told them about the bet we had.

They didn't seem too surprised.

So after an hour and a half of talking locker room gossip, I was so ready to get the hell out of there.

I all but ran to my room, and into the shower.

I only stayed in there enough to get the sweat and grime off my skin.

I was lounging in a hot, bubbly, bath when I heard the hotel room open.

"Eli you here?" Punk's voice rang into the bathroom.

"I'm in here!" I yelled back.

A few moments later he was peeking through a crack in the door.

"What cha' doing?"

"Taking a hot bath." I smiled at him.

"Want some company?" he asked I chuckled slightly.

I waved him over with my hand.

He seemed awfully eager to get into the tub with me.

Not that I minded.

He stripped down naked in seconds, and all but jumped into the water.

I scooted forward for him, so he could slide in behind me.

Once his feet hit the water, I heard him sigh in content.

When he was sitting, I looked back at him wearing a curious face.

"My sneakers are soaked!"

I laughed.

"I told you that would happen!"

"How are you going to dry your sneakers?" he paused for a second.

"Um, I was thinking the hair dryer?"

"No, no, no, that dinky little thing will take way too long. I'll see if I can get someone to toss them in the hotel dryer." I decided, snuggling my back into Punks chest.

I could hear his heart make thumping sounds in his chest, as I turned my head to stare at his left arm.

Every time I set my eyes on his inked skin, I always felt a sense of astonishment.

Sure I had my own ink, my wrist, stomach, and back, but his were so colorful and vibrant.

I stared at, my favorite, the three eyed coy fish; it a symbol of luck.

Punk didn't believe in luck, or in his words "Luck is for Losers", but his entire left forearm was covered in good luck charms.

I lifted my hand out of the water, covered in bubbles, and traced around one of the tattoos.

It wasn't anything new; I always found a design on his body and played with it.

I spent a few more moments playing with his inked skin, when I leaned back to look at his face.

His head was hung back, as if in total relaxation.

I turned my head towards his chest, and did the usual and traced the skull and snake with my soapy finger.

Suddenly, in the silent room, my phone on the floor outside the tub started to ring.

Punk snapped his head up at the sudden sound and gave me a weird look as to who was singing the rather profane song that was my ringtone.

Ok, it wasn't the usual, easy soft rock song, but instead it was DMX.

I couldn't figure it out, but that song just stuck with me.

Maybe it was the part about fucking a corpse.

Or cake?

I wasn't too sure though.

I just shrugged off Punks look, and answered it.

It was Kelly, of course.

"Yes Kelly?" I grumbled into the phone.

"Did you do something stupid?" she blurted.

She didn't even bother to buffer the question for me.

That just proves how often I do some things that aren't very smart.

"You're going to have to narrow that down for me."

She sighed and continued.

"Did you offer up Punk as winnings for your match tonight?"

"Of course not!"

I heard her release a breath or relief.

"I didn't offer him, it was her idea."

"Eli!" she sucked in a breath and leaned into me about how stupid that was.

And how Punk would feel if he knew.

And what if I lost.

And all these other things that were, frankly, not that important in that moment.

I was far more curious as to why Punks fingers were tracing over my own tattoo on my lower back, one of three, as I leaned forward to argue with Kelly.

"Eli, are you listening to me?" she asked sounding genuinely pissed off at me.

"Kel, one, Punk was there when I made the bet, two, I'm not going to lose, and three, that other stuff doesn't matter. All I have to do is win and I'm set. Now, I have to go, I'm extremely busy at the moment."

I trailed off a bit when Punk started rubbing my back.

"Alright, but meet me in my room in ten minutes or I'm coming to get you."

"How about thirty?" I negotiated.

"Ten"

"Twenty?"

My eyes closed as Punk worked my back oh so lovely.

"Ten."

I had to give it to her; she stuck to her guns well.

"Fifteen?"

That was still plenty of time to have my way with the naked man behind me.

"Ten!" she insisted one last time. I sighed.

"Alright, I'll see you in thirty minutes!" I said quickly and hung up.

I knew that would earn me an earful, but by then I didn't care.

"Good god that woman. I love her, but she can drive me insane some days." I muttered placing my phone back on the floor.

Punk grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me back against his chest.

His arms wrapped around me.

"Some days? She drives me up a wall almost every day! And I don't see her nearly as much as you do." Punk laughed, I joined in.

"But she's right, you two do need to talk about this."

At those words I snapped my head to the side and looked at his face, my own brows furrowed.

"She's your best friend. You need her opinion on everything, whether you want others to know it or not."

At that I raised a brow.

"And she needs you too. Haven't you noticed that you spend less and less time with her?"

I looked away, and pondered his words.

"You've been spending all your time with me these past few months. Not that I don't love every second of it, but you should start spending more time with Kelly."

"She has other friends you know." I reminded him.

I knew he was right, but his words made me feel bad.

"Yeah, but none of them are her best friend."

At that I knew what I had to do. I heaved a heavy sigh, and stood up out of the tub.

"But you have twenty more minutes!" Punk reminded me, not wanting to let me leave.

I laughed.

"Not really." I gave him a half smile.

I'd have the rest of the night with Punk, Kelly needed me now.

I went into the other room, toweled off, and reluctantly pulled on my jeans, red tank top and flannel shirt, along with my black Nikes.

Once I was dressed I went back into the bathroom to see a pathetic CM Punk.

"Oh poor baby." I said in my baby voice, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle or two.

He tilted his face towards me, his lip pouting out.

"I don't see why you can't stay for five more minutes…" he muttered absolutely heartbroken. I smiled.

"You're the one who told me to go be with Kelly, you can't take it back now." He heaved an exaggerated sigh, and slouched further into the water.

I walked closer to the tub and kissed the top of his head.

"I'll text you." I promised.

Punk sat back up, out of the water, and kissed my lips softly.

"You better." He muttered as I walked away.

I grabbed my black leather jacket off of the couch, it containing everything I need, like my wallet.

I slipped my arms through the sleeves, said my final goodbyes to Punk, and closed the hotel door.

I walked the five feet to the elevator, and waited all of a second before the doors opened.

The curse of the tin box hadn't left me since our last hotel and I reluctantly pushed myself into said tin box of doom.

"Hey" Randy's smooth voice said. I took in a silent, deep breath and replied.

"Hey." I turned and gave him a semi-real smile. I felt my phone in my pocket vibrate right after. It was Punk.

_I miss you. _

His text read; it made me smile. I pressed a few buttons on my phone in reply.

_I miss you too 3_

"What's so funny?" Randy asked breaking up the cute moment I was having via text with Punk.

I looked up at him, he was honestly curious.

"Oh its no-" I was cut off by the musings of DMX.

Randy was also taken slightly aback at the choice of ringtone.

"Hello?" I asked, welcoming the reprieve from talking to Randy any more.

"Are you seriously waiting a half hour before coming over here?" it was Kelly. I sighed.

"No, I'm on my way. Calm down." I said, snapping the phone shut.

In my peripherals I could see Randy give me a cocked brow.

"Punk?" he asked almost hopefully. I shook my head.

"Kelly." He made an 'ah' noise, probably remembering how obsessive Kelly was at times.

Especially when it came for me to do things.

"Well, it's good to know that Punk isn't down your throat 24/7." Randy said, a moment passed and I let out a puff of laughter.

Randy, realizing what he'd said, started stuttering awkwardly.

"That's not what I meant!" he finally squeaked out.

I couldn't help but let out a full on laugh.

"It's ok, I know what you meant." I said reassuring him he hadn't crossed any lines.

Yet.

It was Randy, I was sure it would happen sooner or later.

"Jeeze Rand, you should think before you talk." I kept laughing.

Once I was done with my fit, the elevator went silent.

"It's been a long time since you've called me that." He said hushed.

I suddenly remembered that 'Rand' was the shorthand version of his name I'd always used while we were 'together'.

The reminder of the past started to make the conversation go from almost pleasant to almost back to awkward.

"So, going up against Kaitlyn tonight?" Randy asked, breaking the thickening awkwardness.

"Yeah, easy win." I got another text.

_I miss you more._

I replied.

_I seriously doubt it. :P_

"Well just in case, good luck." From the corner of my eye I could see Randy half smiling.

"Luck is for losers. And I'm not going to lose."

At my last words, the doors finally opened, revealing Kelly standing impatiently.

She gave me the angry eyes, then turned to Randy, and gave me another look.

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me from the elevator.

"See you Randy." But before he could reply, the doors closed.

I doubt he even heard me since Kelly was dragging me down the hallway with lightning speed.

_Wanna bet?_

_Hmm. I do love gambling…_

I replied, wondering how this was going to go down.

"Ok, so what the hell is up with you? I seriously doubt this is just over the fact that I made a bet with Kaitlyn." I asked once we were in her room with the door shut.

She sighed.

"I don't know. It seems nowadays the only time I get to spend with you is when I'm yelling at you." She confessed, plopping down on her bed.

Seeing her utterly defenseless was unsettling.

It made me wonder how bad I'd been neglecting her.

"I know your relationship with Punk is important. I really do, and I want you to stay with him for, like, ever. But ever since you started dating him, I've barely seen you. And I don't like hanging out with the both of you, well, because you two are kind of gross." I shot her a completely shocked look, my jaw dropped and brows furrowed.

"I mean, you two are always sucking face. It was cute at first, but now it's just gross. It takes all my maturity to not act like Johnny half the time."

She always did speak her mind.

"And, I hate the fact that me and Punk had something way back, because I know it kind of pisses you off. And it makes all our fun awkward. I just miss the girl time we used to have, just the two of us."

At that she looked at me.

I was a bit at a loss for words, but I quickly recovered.

"I'm sorry..." I started weakly.

She shot me a look that made me think that she didn't think I was genuine.

"Ok, Kel, you know how horrible I am with this touchy-feely girly crap. But that's why I'm here, to have some time for just the two of us. So let the party begin!" I said, jumping up and pulling her by the hand, towards the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to halt my steps.

"The hotel spa! We can get a massage, and you can get your nails done." I said motioning to her professionally done nails.

"Let's go!"

Kelly's room was on the second floor, so the elevator was unnecessary.

I headed for the stairs.

We were in the lobby a few moments later, and headed for the spa.

"Where are you ladies going?" Johnny asked as he came up behind us.

"Oh, going to get a massage. You wanna come?" I asked, knowing his answer.

"Sure." He shrugged.

I gapped at him.

Not the answer I expected.

"Seriously? I didn't think you'd actually come…" I muttered.

"Really? Way to be Eli." He pretended to be hurt.

"No! It's because it's Eli/Kelly time..." I started, Kelly cut me off.

"It's ok Eli; he's one of the girls." I laughed, sounding just short of hysterical, and the three of us continued walking.


	12. Click,

It had been a good hour that we were in the Spa.

We got massages, Kelly got her nails done, and we just talked for a long time.

Johnny stayed silent most of the time, unless it was to make a crack at something we were talking about.

Surprisingly, the entire conversation wasn't surrounded around Punk or Randy.

Which was beyond great.

But that didn't stop me from sending Punk a text or two, or fifty, during our girls' time.

We were now in Kelly's room, watching some fashion reality show that Kelly liked.

She sat perfectly framed on the couch, legs crossed, eyes trained on the TV.

I on the other hand, sat with my legs over the back of the couch, and my head dangling over the front, staring at the TV upside down.

I can't say that I was watching it; those kinds of shows made me want to barf.

But Kelly did sit through some low budget horror movie that played earlier.

I guessed I could make it through a few hours of reality television.

But just in case, I kept texting Punk to keep me sane.

She'd leaned into me earlier about texting him during girl time, but I convinced her that it was alright.

And by convinced, I mean I whined and cried until she dropped it.

I looked at the time on my phone after reading a text from Punk, it reading 5:30PM.

"Shit Kel, it's almost six!" I said sitting up from my awkward sitting position.

She too looked up at the clock, checking the time, and shot up.

"Oh, I need to go back to my room for my gym bag…" I muttered, hopefully she heard me, but hopefully she didn't.

But I wasn't that lucky.

She turned from her own gym bag, and shot me a look.

"Really, or are you just trying to come up with an excuse to go back to Punk?"

I dropped my jaw exaggeratedly, and pretended to be insulted.

"Kelly, how could you think that? I've spent a whole day with you! How could I possibly be thinking of him?"

And as if to drive my point out the window, my phone rang.

DMX sounded from my pocket.

"Really?" she shot me the same look Punk and Randy had given me earlier.

I looked up at her with puppy dog eyes after I'd read who was calling.

She sighed, "Alright. Go, but seriously, if you're not down stairs in fifteen minutes I'm coming to get you again."

I popped up right out of my seat, and half flew out the door.

But I quickly back tracked, and stood next to Kelly.

"Thanks Kel." I said kissing her cheek.

She smiled and shooed me from her room.

Once outside the door I flipped my phone open.

"Hey, I'm on my way!" I squealed into the phone.

I heard a few crashes, and a thump, and Punk replied.

"Sweet, hurry!" I laughed at the urgency that laced his voice.

When I boarded the elevator, I had to hang up; shit service.

And I was grateful that the box was empty.

I didn't have to worry about 'that guy' ruining the mood I was in, not yet anyways.

He always found a way under my skin, and that's why I think Punk hated him so much.

Before I could further examine my thoughts, the silver doors opened a whole two floors too soon.

I held my breath, hoping to god that it wasn't Randy.

That moment assured me that there was a god out there, and Johnny was revealed.

"Oh thank god." I muttered, sighing a huge breath of relief.

Johnny shot me a cocked brow.

"I was praying that you weren't Randy. For once in my life, I'm happy to see you." I teased.

"Well, I'm happy to know that I was wanted for once." He smirked.

"Actually, I was praying for anyone and it just so happened to be you." I said, crushing his hopes.

The elevator dinged again, this time on the right floor.

"Now, if you'll excuse me…" I trailed on, stepping from the elevator and hurrying the few feet to my room door.

The doors to the elevator closed, leaving me alone to fumble with the keycard.

Finally I slid it into the reader, and at the beep, I wretched the door open, and entered the room.


	13. Click

**Click…**

I'd been there ten of my fifteen minutes, and not a single piece of clothing had been moved, much.

I was lying on the bed with Punk, his chest bare like it was when I first entered.

My head was over his heart, listening to it beat, and my fingers traced around his stomach that I loved so much.

His own fingers petted my hair softy, keeping a consistent and soothing momentum.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in the comfortable silence. I heard it before I felt it.

I flipped it open, and read it to myself.

_Five minute warning..._ it was from Kelly.

I let out a disappointed sigh, and lifted my head from Punks chest, disturbing our tranquil scene.

I turned my elevated head towards him, a pout forming on his face.

"Kelly says I have to go soon." I frowned.

He groaned as I shifted from my spot and planted my feet on the floor.

I opened my suitcase that was near the couch, and started tossing my clothes aside and onto the floor, like usual.

I didn't search long for my ring gear, and put it into the small duffel.

It baffled me how I could never keep my ring gear in the gym bag I used every day, when almost every day I used that same ring gear.

I went through my mental checklist, like I did every day: everything was there.

I grabbed my jacket, and slug the bag over my shoulder.

"I'll see you later." I said, kneeling on the edge of the bed.

Punk sat up, still pouting.

I'd never seen him pout so much, yet again, I'd never, not, been with him.

I kissed his lips softly.

"Yeah, I'm gunna walk you down to the ring tonight." He reminded me, and kissed me again.

My phone went off again; Punk groaned knowing it was another reminder for me to leave him.

"Go be with Kelly. I'll see you in a little bit." He kissed me once more, and I slipped away towards the door.

"I'll text you." I said from the door frame.

I waved my goodbyes to Punks sad face, and close the door.

I read the text from Kelly I'd gotten moments ago, it another countdown warning.


	14. Boom!

**Boom!**

I'd met Kelly in the hotel lobby, for the first time ever, on time.

I might have been early even! We left for the arena, and our loyal Fandom.

We spent a good hour with the fans, doing the usual, answering questions, taking pictures, signing autographs, and so on.

Kelly and I went to the locker room when we had an hour before broadcast.

I was just starting on lacing my boots when I heard Kaitlyn on the other side of the locker room.

She was huddled in the corner with AJ, starting some kind of gossip.

"Yeah, I decided to change up my outfit. You know, make it sexier for the guys." She told AJ.

I noticed that her usually her gold singlet, was replaced by a rather risqué two piece that resembled Kelly's ring gear.

But the difference was that Kelly had been in Maxims Hot 100, multiple times, Kaitlyn had not.

I sat there and just laughed in my head for a moment.

"Oh, you mean like Punk?" AJ toyed with her friend.

I glanced up to see the two of them in their own little world, and Kaitlyn looking awfully bashful.

It seemed that they weren't trying to push my buttons, but inadvertently, they had.

Instantly, I was put in a bad mood.

But what I didn't know at the time was that, the two divas from Dorkville had gotten under my skin.

I was so irate in my head, that I'd hardly noticed that Kelly was missing from my side.

Once I'd finished with my boots, I grabbed my trainers tape, and set out to find her.

I didn't have to search long, because when I exited the locker room and turned around one corner, I saw her.

I saw her face down on the hard concrete floor.

Quickly, I ran to her side and rolled her on her back.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow.

I could see the pinkish outlines of hands on her arms, and the reddening of the soon-to-be-bruises on her face.

I quickly ran back to the locker room and grabbed my phone.

I dialed for Johnny, knowing he would be here already; Punk wouldn't be here for at least another twenty minutes.

Once I got him on the line, I tried to stay calm but my best friend was lying on the floor in front of me unconscious; I was far from calm.

"Kelly's been attacked!" it was the only thing I needed to say before Johnny was on his way to find us.

I'd told him we were right outside the Divas locker room, and he was next to me moments later.

He picked her up, and carried her in his arms to the medic's office, which was also the trainer's room too.

Not five minutes after we arrived, Triple H stormed through the doors asking all sorts of questions.

"I don't know what happened. She was in the locker room one second, then the next I found her face down in the hallway." I explained.

"Aren't there security cameras you can check?"

Triple H said a few words about keeping this on the down low for a bit, until he had more information, and that he needed me to keep my cool.

The first bit didn't sound too bad, but that last part wasn't going to happen.

I had no idea who could have done that to her, most of the Divas were in the locker room with us at the time of the attack.

The medics loaded Kelly onto a stretcher, and brought her to the local hospital.

Triple H said he'd tell me as soon as there was an update on her condition, but that I needed to start getting ready for my match.

I debated whether or not to jump in the ambulance with her, but I knew I had to stay.

I had a match to win.

After Kelly was gone, the trainer turned to me and quickly, faster than usual, wrapped my shoulder.

After fifteen minutes of stretching, I was ready to go.

"Hey, what's with all the commotion?" I heard from behind me as I paced the hallway just south of the Gorilla.

I turned to see Punk, coming towards me, his usual smirk fading into concern at my utterly infuriated features.

"What's wrong?"

"Kelly was attacked."

I hadn't spoken since I'd talked to Triple H over forty-five minutes ago and my voice had gone horse.

Punk's face fell at my news, his hand came up to my arm to comfort me.

"Is she ok?" I shook my head, reminding him of the Ambulance that roared out of here not too long ago.

"Are you ok?" I shrugged, not really knowing how to answer that.

Of course I hadn't been physically harmed, I'd found her after the fact.

But I didn't feel my usual self.

Before a match, I always felt so calm and clear-minded, now I was way too stressed out, and had everything possible on my mind.

And that wasn't even the worse part.

The worst part was that I didn't know how this Kelly incident was making me feel, other than pissed off.

I would have loved to spend some time with Punk to figure it out, but the crew members called us over to the Gorilla, and my music started.

"Easy come, easy go, easy girls…rock n' roll!"

And I stepped out from the shadows of the Titantron, holding my fists high.

Somehow the thoughts that plagued me moments before hand seemed to dissipate as I stepped further into the screams and cheers, and closer to the ring.

I heard Justin introduce me, and I stepped through the second rope on the ring.

I did my usual prance around the ring, hopping up in each corner and encouraging the crowd to yell louder.

Once I settled into the middle of the ring, Kaitlyn's entrance music started.

She soared down the ramp with fan applause as she debuted her new, skimpy, outfit, and hopped up in the corners.

She headed to the far back corner, closest the time keeper, also where Punk was standing.

It was hard to see what was happening from behind, but Punks face said more than enough.

She had hopped up on the second turnbuckle and raised her arms, but her head stayed looking down for a split second too long.

She was looking down at Punk.

I don't know what she said or did, but I got to watch in infuriating agony as Punks brows lifted, and his eyes went up and down her body.

It took all my strength not to let my jaw drop, let alone storm across that ring and punch Kaitlyn square in the face. I'd get that in a few moments.

I kept my eyes on Punk for a few more seconds, the feeling of utter betrayal starting to muster in the center of my back.

He eventually noticed that my mood had shifted, but it was too late; I'd gone from bad to worse, and Kaitlyn was going to get all of it, right in the face.

The second the bell rang, my eyes went back to her, she seemed ready to grapple, but I wanted to fight.

I didn't even give her a second to think about it before I jumped on her.

I was in a total daze when the ref started the count that I didn't notice that he was already on four.

I instantly got off of her.

A disqualification meant a loss, and a loss here meant I lost mine and Kaitlyn's bet, therefore, losing Punk.

And that could not happen.

Ever.

No matter what.

She finally made it to her knees, and I laid into her some massive kicks.

I caught a glimpse of Punk as a reared back around to face her; he didn't seem too impressed with how out of control I was.

At that point, I wasn't able to give a damn and I kept with the torture on Kaitlyn.

But fortunately for her, it didn't last much longer.

The second she was on her feet, I was already in motion of a Jersey Jaw Dropper, my signature move and a roundhouse kick to the skull.

My foot connected nicely with the side of her face, making her land on her back, hard.

I pinned her, got the 3 count, and, like I said I would, won the match.

But I wasn't done yet.

Once the ref let go of my hand, and Punk was sliding into the ring, I stepped towards Kaitlyn.

I poked her with my foot a few times until she looked up at me through narrowed eyes.

Punk came up behind me and grabbed my arm, I instantly shook him off, raised my hands in victory one last time, and stormed out of the ring.

The crowd was cheering louder that they were earlier; apparently they liked what I'd just done.

Frankly, so did I.

I didn't stop walking until I was in the Divas locker room, and standing in front of my duffle bag.

I let out a loud roar, and kicked a chair over.

I sighed and picked it back up and sat in it. I spent the new few moments alone vigorously unwrapping my shoulder, making it bleed.

"Fuck"

"What the hell was that? What happened out there?" Punk asked busting into the locker room.

Good thing that all the Divas were in the viewing room, no doubt whispering about the beat down I'd just delivered to Kaitlyn.

"Um, that's what I call a win." I retorted, grabbing a towel off the floor and pressing it to the beginning to the tiny trickle of blood that was dripping down my shoulder.

Punk stood there for a few more minutes, he was about to say something, when Triple H walked into the locker room as well.

"Eli-" Hunter started then he looked at Punk.

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

I grumbled and yelled for him to continue from before.

"Oh, right, Eli, Kelly is fine. She got her head checked out, and it's just a minor concussion. She is on her way back to the hotel now, but she's been suspended from ringside and any matches until her head clears up."

By now I was finishing removing the ring boots from my feet and slipping on my regular black Nikes.

I didn't bother changing from my other ring gear; I just shoved all my clothes into my duffle, grabbed my leather jacket, and stormed out of the locker room without any words.

I pulled on the jacket, it covering mostly only my stomach, and a bit of my hips.

I was almost two feet from the outside door when Punk caught my arm, he held on so tightly that I couldn't think of shaking him off once again.

"Seriously, what the hell is wrong? I've never seen you this riled up over a match before."

I laughed in my head, little did he know, it wasn't the match that had me so pissed off.

And I would make sure that he never found out.

That was just how I operated.

It was a few moments, and I still hadn't answered, his grip on my arm started to loosen.

His hand slid down my arm to my hand and held it there.

I was so mad; I didn't have any idea what to do with myself.

So I just stood there.

I stood there and held his hand for a moment, until I remembered that he was the reason I was so irate that I could barely see straight.

I pulled away from his grasp, and hurled myself out the heavy metal doors.

I was hailing a taxi in moments; DC was riddled with them.


	15. My Favorite Poison

**My Favorite Poison**

I didn't dare go back to my own room, the one I shared with Punk, so I went to the next best thing.

"Eli, my head it killing me, there's no need to knock so loudly."

Kelly muttered after the door was fully opened.

I barreled past her and threw my stuff down on the floor at the foot of the bed and started my pacing.

"Ok, what's wrong?" she asked, instantly sensing something was up.

"Why are you still in your ring gear?"

"Did you see my match tonight?" I turned to her and asked.

"Yeah, it just finished. You won. What's so bad about that?" I shook my head.

"No, did you see the beginning of it?" she shook her head.

That's right; she was still in the hospital when the match started.

I started digging into my bag, finding my jeans and tank from earlier and pulled them on.

I grabbed my phone and wallet, then looked down at my phone, it a dull shade of red after the years of wear and tear.

Without a second thought, I dropped the phone on Kelly's bed, and walked towards the door, grabbing Kelly along the way.

"Where are we going?" she asked, sounding slightly worried.

"Out." I muttered as we entered the elevator.

Thankfully there wasn't an ambush waiting for me, and we got out to the street without any disruptions.

It was the next morning when I opened my eyes to a blurry, bright as hell, room with a blonde blob standing above me.

"What happened?" I rasped, rubbing my eyes.

I heard Kelly sigh.

"You don't remember?"

I shook my head.

"Well, that's the last time I let you drink while emotional."

She laughed as I made my way, slowly, to my feet.

I stumbled blindly towards my bag where I knew my sunglasses would be.

"So, we had a great conversation last night…" Kelly began. I furrowed my brows.

"Well, it started with a confession or two. Like your little bet with Punk, which was actually kind of disgusting so I'll just leave that alone. Then there was your little day dream of sorts of how you were going to push Kaitlyn in front of a bus. That too was pretty disturbing."

She paused.

"You're a pretty vulgar drunk, did you know that?"

She continued after seeing my hung over face start to glace over.

"Oh, and then there was one about how Punk wanted to cheat on you? That was a good one!"

I sighed knowing that I had some explaining to do.

"He doesn't want to cheat on me. I saw him checking out Kaitlyn before my match last night."

I figured that I would say something about it last night, which was how I was when I was drunk.

I blabbed until I passed out.

I was about to start up on the rest of the story, when my phone rang.

DMX was starting to get annoying.

I searched a while for the damn contraption, it had gotten lost among the bed dressings while we slept.

Finally I picked it up, flipped it open, and read the name on the screen.

It was his name, one that I loved so much.

Under the name was a picture of the two of us kissing at a release of a new comic book.

I sighed and hurled the phone at Kelly.

Her concussion did nothing to her reflexes; she caught it with perfect ease.

She too read the name, but she actually answered it and didn't pass it on to the next blonde in the room.

"Hey Punk. It's Kelly."

She was silent for only a second.

"Oh Eli is fine. She just woke up."

Again silence.

"Oh, that was my bad. We were out last night doing girl stuff, and I forced her to leave her phone behind. Once we got back we instantly passed down! We didn't even get to change our clothes!" she lied.

I hated it.

I hated lying in general, but to Punk it was the worst.

I sighed and held out my hand.

"Oh, here she is." Kelly said, handing me the phone.

Punk was about to start talking when I cut him off.

"No. I can't do this. Kelly was lying. We did stay out all night, but I spent the majority of it drunk and stupid."

I didn't sugar coat it for him.

He was a big boy and could handle what I had to say.

I knew drinking went against everything Punk believed in, being Straight Edge, but I wasn't.

I could drink and not compromise my values.

My words earned me a stern leaning into by Punk, which he never did.

I knew the moment I started dating him that I'd have to make some compromises, and drinking myself into a hole was one of them.

I'd made a habit of drinking until I blacked out, then ending up in my bed without knowing how.

Usually, it was Johnny or Kelly who carried me back to my bed.

Sometimes, I ended up in beds that sure as hell weren't mine.

Even as a professional athlete and knowing how bad it was to drink, it was hard to completely let it go.

With Punk I could finagle a small glass of whiskey, but an entire bottle was out of the question.

Let alone a second.

I sat quietly as Punk chastised me for my immature behavior.

I could tell he was disappointed in me.

And he still sounded pissed when he hung up.

I sighed; I'd made my bed, now it was time for me to lie in it.

"What the fuck?" Kelly blurted, breaking my somber silence.

"I had him hooked on the perfect line and you go and blow it? Was endangering your relationship really worth it?"

"I can't lie to him Kel. It hurts to lie to him, that's why he knows everything about me. He wasn't just yelling at me because he was Straight Edge, it was because of my old habits! The ones you had to clean up after. I would think you would be first in line for me to get my act together?"

Now I was just taking it out on Kelly, and I didn't want to.

I sighed angrily and made a hasty decision.

I stood and grabbed my gym bag and jacket and left Kelly's room.

She sent me a text not seconds later.

_Where are you going?_

I thought a moment before I replied.

_Home._

And at that I took out the battery to my phone and shoved both into my pocket.

The next big task was to get my suitcase from my own room.

I sighed again.

Today was just a sighing kind of day I guessed.

As I approached my room door, I contemplated what I would say when I got in there.

Half, if not most, of me was hoping that Punk had left already.

I swiped my card, and saw Punk sitting on the couch, arms crossed, and trying to watch some horror movie.

That was our thing, horror movies and cartoons.

I stopped almost in front of him; it took a few moments before I could form words.

"I just came by the get my suitcase." I muttered then crossed the room hastily.

Quickly picking up the strewn clothing, I piled everything into the suitcase and zipped it up.

I placed the keycard on the bedside table, and left without saying goodbye.

I even escaped the lobby without being stopped.

I hailed a taxi, and went to the train station.

Before I knew it I was on a train north bound to Jersey.

I kept my shades on and my hood up, one because of random fans, and two, I had a hangover from hell.

I spent the majority of the three hours sipping on coffee and debating whether or not to call before I showed up at my house.

It wasn't like the place was empty.

My family had built it back in the 1800's and I wasn't about to sell it off to some low lives who would probably cook meth out of the kitchen.

So I rented it out to my childhood best friend, Jakie and his wife and kid.

Sunday was supposed to be perfect.

I had it all planned out.

The house was less than two blocks away from the arena where Bragging Rights was supposed to go down, and Punk and I were supposed to walk home with Jakie and Bec, his wife, and Rosie, their two-year-old daughter, after the show.

Now I guessed it was just going to be the four of us.

After hours of sitting in utter pain, I was happy to be rid of the confined space in the train.

I stepped off the platform and through the station to the street with my suitcase rolling along behind me.

I didn't bother with a ride; my house was a fifteen minute walk away.


	16. Home Sweet Home

"Eli! What are you doing home? I thought you weren't getting here until late tonight?" Bec yelled from the crack in her car window.

I was on the side of the road, probably five feet from the house.

She pulled into the drive way, and parked the car. I kept walking towards her and the warmth of her car.

Ok.

So walking in mid-November wasn't the smartest idea, but hell.

It was a nice change from the hell I was in.

Bec ran towards me, her dark brown hair up in a ponytail and only wearing a sweatshirt and scrubs, she hugged me tightly.

"Come on in! It's too cold out here for hugs!" she said ushering me inside.

"Hey, Bec. Can you find me the remote? Rose lost it!" I heard my best friend since childhood yell from the other room.

I looked at Bec and smiled.

I took off my jacket and shoes, and crept almost silently towards where Jakie would be.

I found the remote along the way too.

I stopped a few feet from the couch and just stared at him.

He stared straight ahead, his blue eyes glazed over. His dirty blond hair hung loosely in his face.

It been almost six months since I'd seen any of them, and he was the only one who lit up like a kid in a candy store when I came home.

I felt like it was cheating though, being as he's blind.

But I leaned against the door frame, remote in hand, and started in on the man.

"Really, Dora? You need to grow up man." I teased, noting the annoying cartoon on the 55 inch TV screen against the wall.

"But it's good to know you cleaned up for me!"

He was still wearing his pajamas, despite it being almost noon, and it looked like he hadn't shaved in over a month.

"Eli, is that you?" he asked staring straight forward.

I smiled and walked towards him.

I touched his arm.

"The one and only." I laughed.

He instantly stood and gave me a big hug.

Obviously someone missed me.

"Easy man, I was in the fight of my life last night. Or did you miss it?" he scoffed at me, as if I'd insulted him.

"Hell no, I haven't missed a match, why would I start now?" he laughed with me, as we sat on the couch.

Bec came over with Rosie a few moments later and sat on Jakie's other side.

She placed her hand on his arm so he knew she was there.

"Speaking of that fight, I heard some rumors that you snapped and delivered some serious ass whooping?" I laughed awkwardly.

He knew me too well.

"That's what I thought. Bec told me you looked totally pissed. Plus, fucking Cole wouldn't shut up about how you were being way too aggressive and should be suspended."

"Fucking Cole, I'll show him aggressive." I grumbled.

It wasn't something I wanted to talk about, but Jakie was just as good as Kelly at getting me to do shit I didn't want to.

I sighed and started in on the story that was entirely too annoying to keep telling.

"Dammit, Eli. You got yourself in quiet a pickle, huh?" I sighed.

"You have no idea."

At my words, Jakie leaned closer to me, and his nose scrunched up.

"But what I do know is that you smell like a damn liquor store! Go take a shower!" Jakie said, lightening to mood slightly.

I laughed and patted his shoulder.

I had to agree, I smelt pretty damn bad, and the alcohol was only half of it.

I went out last night smelling like a sweaty, piss box, then went out and got shitfaced.

A few moments later, I excused myself from the room and went to my bedroom.

I grabbed my suitcase, and climbed the dark wood stairs.

There were four bedrooms in the house, back ten-fifteen years ago, three of them belonged to Marcus, Rosie, and my parents.

But now only three of the four were occupied.

There were three rooms on the second floor, and one down stairs next to the kitchen.

That room, that used to belong to Marcus, was now a guest room.

Jakie always told me that it was just waiting for Marcus to come back.

The other rooms were all aligned on the top floor.

Jakie and Bec shared my parents' old room, the master bedroom with its own bathroom.

Rosie, their daughter, had my sister's old room.

The pink paint on the walls was the same paint my parents used when my baby sister demanded it be a certain shade.

It baffled me how similar Jakie's daughter was to my sister.

They both had the same blonde curls, the brightest green eyes, and both look almost exactly like their fathers.

When I heard that Jakie was having a kid, I was just as excited as him.

And when he told me her name, I was seriously touched.

Jakie said it was because of what happened when we were kids.

He'd told me that his dad, who died of a heart attack a few weeks before, used to be the only one to call him Jakie.

So to make him feel better I told him; "Now I'm going to call you Jakie, so whenever you hear it, you'll think of him."

He said the exact same thing to me the day he told me his daughter was to be named Rosie.

I turned the old fashioned knob to my bedroom door, it being the same one I had in my childhood, and exposed myself to the teenage wonderland.

Ok, so it wasn't that bad. I still had a few posters of Backstreet Boys hanging up, but other than that it was the version of my life I wanted to keep home.

I had some of the greatest memories on those walls, most of them involving Jakie or the WWE.

I plopped my suitcase on the full sized bed, dressed in the usual black bed spread.

I tossed all my clothes into a laundry basket next to the door.

I'd have to get Bec to do a load for me later.

I grabbed a set of sweats from the dresser on the other side of the room and walking towards one of the two other doorways on my walls.

One was a closet, and the other was a full bathroom.

It wasn't like the ones I'd spent time in in the hotels; it was a bit older.

The tub still had feet; the shower was just a rod that dispensed water into a colander looking thing.

There was a toilet and sink stuffed off into the corner opposite the shower.

I turned on the water, waited for the hot water to kick in, and undressed.

The long, hot shower gave me some time to think things through.

And I had a lot of things to think about.

But the big decision was whether or not to turn my phone back on.

I sat on the edge of the bath tub, dressed in my sweats, my hair dripping water onto the grey shirt.

I stared intently at the red flip phone that lied in three pieces, body, battery, and back.

I went back and forth with this decision for a few moments; I couldn't be completely cut off, but I didn't know what to do while in this position.

I'd left the hotel this morning all in a hot fuss, cut off myself from my friends, but more importantly, I hadn't talked to my own boyfriend all day other than to get yelled at.

After rationalizing the thought a few times, I decided my next move.

Before I could have a second thought, I put the pieces of my phone back together and turned it on.

I didn't have to wait five seconds before I was bombarded with text messages; all sixty of them from when I was off the radar.

Another warning flashed on my phone; twenty-two missed calls.

I sighed and started sifting through the tons of texts.

After a good fifteen minutes, I'd devised that most of them were from Kelly, which was a good thing.

She'd been giving me a play-by-play of Punk's actions all day.

Apparently he'd asked her if she knew anything about why I was mad and where I went, and like the responsible best friend, she denied knowing anything.

Just because most of them were from Kelly, didn't mean I didn't get a ton from Punk as well.

He'd sent me the same text almost every fifteen minutes; asking for me to call him or text him back and that he was worried about me.

I felt bad for ignoring him all day, but I still wasn't ready to talk to him.

I decided to text Kelly, just to let her know I wasn't dead on the side of the road or something.

_Hey Kel. I'm fine. I just got home almost an hour ago. Sorry of ignoring you all day._

It wasn't ten seconds later that I got a reply.

_Don't worry about it. Just make sure to show up tonight. I'll talk to you then, if you want._

_ Don't worry. Jakie is almost as bad as you when it comes to nagging me. I'll see you then. _

Kelly always had a way of saying the right thing, and I knew that she would understand.

At that I walked out into my room, and placed my phone on the dark brown wooden night stand, next to the family photo I kept there.

I didn't dwell on the past for too long, because DMX scared the shit out of me.

I looked down at the same picture I saw earlier; it was him.

On the inside, I started to panic. I didn't know what to do.

If I answered I'd have to talk to him.

If I didn't and just let it ring, he'd know my phone was back on and keep calling.

If I ignored the call, he'd know I was avoiding him.

I was hopelessly deadlocked between the three.

But before I had to make a decision, the ringing stopped.

I breathed a breath of relief, but for only a moment.

My phone vibrated, telling me I had a text.

_Eli. Please. Call me back._

My heart was breaking on the inside.

I could feel the desperation he was experiencing, through a text.

I couldn't do this to him, it was worse than lying.

I took a deep breath, and pressed the send button.

It rang only once before Punk answered on the other line.

"Eli, is that you?" it took me a few seconds to answer, but I did.

"Yeah." I whispered. I heard him sigh on the other end.

"Oh thank god. I thought something might have happened to you. Why did you leave?" again I hesitated to respond.

"I wanted to go home." I kept my tone hushed.

"Why didn't you answer any of my phone calls or texts?" he sounded almost heartbroken.

I stammered with my words before I could force out a semi-truthful answer.

"I thought you would still be mad at me."

"Eli! I'm over that! I wasn't even that mad. Or mad at all. I was just bummed that you started drinking again. I don't want you to have to rely on alcohol to make things easier, especially between us."

I felt streaks of cool liquid run down my cheeks; my eyes burning like fire.

I sniffled.

I hadn't really cried the entire time Punk and I had been dating.

I'd done my share of fake crying, but never this real.

"Hey, it's ok. You don't need to cry. I'm happy you called me."

"I'm not crying!" I yelled in to the phone, I heard a pair of faint chuckles.

One was from Punk, the other from outside my door.

"Go away!" I yelled through tears.

I kicked my door, scaring whoever it was behind it.

"Eli, that was unnecessary! My hearing is all I got left man!" it was Jakie eavesdropping on me, which was nothing new.

He was famous for poking his nose where it didn't belong.

I laughed slightly then turned back to the conversation with Punk.

"If you want, I can take a train up to Jersey today?" Punk said, instantly grasping my attention.

"You can't. You have too much stuff planned for today to take a four hour train ride."

"Not anymore. I convinced Hunter to cancel it seeing that I'm sick and all." I could hear a smile start to break in his voice.

There was a pause.

"Why are you trying to get me not to go? I want to see you babe."

Now he sounded devastated.

I was stumbling over some lame words, when I found my out.

"Sorry Punk, I got to go!" I hurried the words from my mouth, at the sound of Rosie crying.

I was always the one who could get her to stop crying almost instantly.

I didn't wait for Punk to reply before I clicked the phone shut.

I placed it on the bedside table and hurried out to see what had happened.


	17. Wait, So There is NO Knife in My Back?

It turns out that Rosie was only crying because the dog, my baby Hornet the American Bulldog, had sneezed in her face.

Granted it was absolutely hilarious, but the poor baby didn't think so.

But that was the night before, and I still hadn't talked to Punk since I hung up on him.

I'd woken up this morning, just before dawn, after finally falling asleep sometime after midnight.

But it was finally Sunday, and I could focus on my match tonight.

And that's all I did think about all morning until I decided to get up.

By then it was still mid-morning, I decided to start my noon time workout, which is the same as the others.

Obsessive amounts of running and stretching.

I did my usual twenty minute stretch session then geared up for a long run outside in the forty degrees and colder weather.

It was sloshy outside, like it was in DC, but I avoided the puddles and mounds of snow.

When I returned home to finish my work out, another twenty minutes of stretching, I walked into quite a surprise.

Punk was standing on the stoop, Jakie at the door.

"Punk, what are you doing here?" I asked quickening my pace towards the two guys.

I placed my hand on Jakie's arm.

"It's ok, Jakie. This is Punk."

Jakie made an "oh" shape with his mouth, and stepped aside to let the two of us in from the cold.

"How did you get here?" I asked turning to Punk once the door was closed.

"The train, then I asked some dude at the station where your house was and he pointed me in this direction." He explained as he removed his shoes, jacket and bag.

I'd just noticed that he only carried his backpack, which meant his luggage was on the way in the busses.

I too removed my wet sneakers, and walked down the hall to do my final stretch.

"Want some help?" I didn't have to look up to see he was smirking that shit-eating grin of his, but I didn't want to look up.

I still had this sinking suspicious that something wasn't right.

"Nah, I'm done."

That time I did look up, to see Punk's face in utter shock.

That was the first time, ever, I'd refused his advances.

I looked up to see Punk giving a look.

One that said 'who are you and what have you done with my Eli?' It almost made me laugh.

Almost, but didn't.

"What?" I asked.

He stepped towards me; he raised his hand, and pressed it to my forehead.

"I'm not sick." I said plainly.

"Then what's wrong?" I just shrugged at his question.

Suddenly, Jakie knocked us from our own world.

"Alrightly then. How about some food? And Eli, I think Rosie is starting to take after you…"

I made a face, and remembered that he couldn't see it.

"What do you mean?"

"She eats so fast that she can't even taste her food. Or at least that's what Bec tells me." He smirked.

However much Rosie resembled my sister, she had my god awful personality.

I was probably one of the worst kids out there, when my parents were alive.

The only thing that kept me in line was my fighting training.

I'd spend day and night training, so that usually kept me from too big of problems.

I laughed at the thought of another me running around here.

"Sucks to be you man." I laughed, and scooped up the running toddler coming closer to me.

She hugged me tight, and looked over my shoulder with awe all over her face.

I turned to see her staring at Punk.

"Rosie, do you know who this is?"

She nodded.

"It's CM Punk. He's auntie's boyfriend."

She dropped her jaw adorably. I laughed, hearing Punk join me quietly.

"Come on; let's go see if we can find any cookies in the kitchen!"

At that her eyes turned back to me, utterly excited.

I started towards the kitchen when I heard Jakie behind me.

"No! You'll ruin her appetite for supper!" he paused.

"Oh, Eli's room is upstairs, third door down. You'll know it when you see it." A few seconds later I turned and saw him blindly, literally, trying to find his way into the kitchen without impaling himself on something.

I was rummaging through the cabinets when Jakie hit me with some questions from hell.

"Ok, what was that?" I kept rummaging, keeping my hands busy.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. I heard the conversation yesterday, you wouldn't have cried if he backed you into a corner, and he sure as hell wouldn't have come here! Why are you hiding your problem from him?" I groaned loudly, both because I couldn't find any cookies, and that Jakie just had to drudge up not-fun stuff.

"You have to tell him, and you know it."

God, why were him and Kelly so similar?

"Alright I will. Calm down." I huffed, placing Rosie down on the floor.

She shot me a disappointed look at the fact that there were no cookies.

"Me too kid." I muttered to her.

But she just skipped off to play in the other room and watch Dora or something.

"Dammit." I muttered.

I didn't hear another peep from Jakie as I exited the room.

I knew I had to tell him, but dammit I didn't want to.

I had to drag my feet towards my room because that was how much I didn't want to tell him.

I would have been completely content with living the rest of our lives with him never knowing this.

I finally made it to my opened door; I smiled as I leaned against the frame.

I spied Punk, lying on his back in my bed, asleep.

I was happy for two reasons, one because he was utterly adorable, and two because now I didn't have to tell him.

I eventually went from my position in the door, and walked over to my closet and grabbed a blanket.

I covered him with it, and sat on my bed next to him.

I smoothed my fingers along his face lovingly.

I'd definitely have to talk to him when he woke up.

As I stroked the patch of his skin what wasn't covered in hair, he started to stir.

His eyes opened, and he looked at me in wonder.

"Oh good so it wasn't a dream."

He exhaled like he held his breath wishing that I was real.

I furrowed my brow slightly, curious as to what he meant.

"I haven't gotten much sleep the past couple of nights."

His own hand came around mine on his face.

I let out a shallow breath, his words breaking my heart.

He was so worried about me the nights I was unreachable, that he hadn't been sleeping.

"Oh baby." I whispered, leaning down and lying with him.

I kept my hand on his face, the side furthest from me, and kissed the cheek closest.

"Go back to sleep." Again I whispered.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him.

I could see his eyes drift closed as I lulled him to sleep almost like a child.

After all I'd put him through, and was about to, he deserved to be catered to as such.

I rubbed his chest, and rhythmically hushed him until I heard his breathing shallow.

As I lied with him there, I understood how tired he could be.

I too hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, mostly because he wasn't near me.

That and Rosie liked to make a lot of noise in the middle of the night, like crying.

And I too drifted off for some much needed sleep.

It felt like five minutes later that I awoke, but really, according to the alarm clock on my night stand, almost three hours had passed.

I quickly, and stealthily, detached from Punk, and untangled myself from his arms.

I needed to do laundry, bad.

I grabbed the medium wicker basket from next to my door, and gently closed the door behind me as I took the basket and went down stairs.

Right before you get into the kitchen, there's a small hallway with two doors.

One is the guest bedroom; the other is the stairs for the basement.

I took the creaky wooden steps one at a time, careful to balance the basket on my hip.

When I finally touched down after almost twenty-five steps, I was thrust back in time.

The room hadn't changed at all, besides the updated washer and dryer on the opposite end.

There were still the thick blue mats on the hard concrete floor, with a punching bag hanging from the metal support beam for the house.

There was an old treadmill stuffed in one of the corners, from when I used to hate running outside, and a twenty piece set of dumbbells that looked like they were from the 1940's.

I stared for a moment longer, and proceeded towards the laundry machines.

After I put in an overstuffed load into the washer, I stepped on to the blue matting.

Being in the basement brought back a whole lot of memories of what my life used to be.

Not that I don't love my life now, cause I do.

I was still dressed in my work out clothes from earlier, a tank and shorts, when I started going at the old bag.

The first few hits caused some dust to fly off, but after I got in some good punches and kicks, I started to fall into an old routine.

It was some time later when I heard the basement door creak open, and the stairs squeal with each step the person took.

I didn't stop until the person coming down was visible.

It was Punk.

"I thought you were sleeping?" I asked, stilling the bag in front of me.

"When you got up, I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep." He walked towards me, eventually enclosing me in his arms.

I closed my eyes, and leaned into his embrace, also circling my arms around his waist.

I heard the washing machine buzz as it finished its cycle.

I groaned and squeezed Punk tightly.

I pushed away from him and walked towards the laundry machines.

I went and transferred my laundry from the washer to the dryer, pushed a few buttons and the dryer roared to life.

I turned around seeing Punk leaning against one of the many pillars that held up the celling of the basement.

I hopped up, and sat down on the top of the dryer.

"What?" I asked, curious as to what the face he was giving me was for.

It was covered in torn emotions, happy to be around me, but somehow not.

"You know you haven't tried once to kiss me since I got here?" Punk seemed genuinely concerned at that.

I, on the other hand, hadn't noticed until now.

I stuck out my bottom lip and lifted my arms up, motioning him to come to me.

He smiled, and did just that.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and my dangling legs around his waist.

Our foreheads touched for a moment, then our lips.

"Hmm, much better." He muttered against my lips, then pressed against them again.

After a few minutes, the kiss deepened, and his hands found their way underneath my shirt.

I knew what he wanted, and I sure as hell wanted it too.

But I had to pull back.

"What's wrong now?" he sighed, leaning back from me.

"I got to tell you something first." I stammered some.

Punk's brows furrowed a bit.

"About actually why I went home." I paused, his brows furrowed more.

"I was mad at you. Actually, I think I might still be." I mused out loud, like an idiot.

Punk shifted back more, to an arm's length.

"Why are you mad at me?"

I sighed, and answered.

"Because I saw you checking out Kaitlyn before my match Friday." I said flatly, but I wanted to puke.

I dared a glance at Punk, his face utterly shocked.

"And that's why I went out drinking with Kelly." I admitted.

"Haven't we gone over this before? I'm not interested in Kaitlyn, never have been, never will be. Why would you think that I was checking her out?"

"I saw your face when she came out in that new slut suit!"

I started to raise my voice.

"I'm not stupid. Just tell me the truth."

At that Punk completely pulled away, taking a step back.

"I am telling you the truth! The only reason why I was looking at her at all was because she looked like a fool! She's not the kind of girl who can parade around in something like that. Frankly, it wasn't that pleasant."

His face looked actually kind of disgusted as he remembered her outfit.

Now I felt awkward.

"Oh."

Yup.

Awkward indeed.

At that point I had no idea what to say, or do.

But as if an angle from above, Jakie yelled from the top of the stairs.

"Hey, Eli, are you still down there?" I paused and yelled back.

"Oh, well Bec is home and is starting with dinner. She says she needs your help with something."

I yelled back that I'd be up in a minute.

"Punk, I got to go." I said, jumping down from the dryer.

"Alright. I'll be down here, working out." He replied.

I hadn't been expecting him to say something to me after I'd just made an utter fool out of myself.

Let alone lean down and kiss me lovingly.

I stood there for a second and just blinked at him.

He laughed at my blank face.

I eventually was able to walk away.


	18. Walking the Walk

**Hey all! I'm sorry the last few chapters have been kinda… boring? I'm not too sure how to describe them. Lol. But I swear that these next three or four are going to make up for it. Hopefully. So have fun and review! **

**Thanks, Skee. **

I helped Bec with preparing supper and watched Rosie while she cooked.

The five of us ate dinner and Punk and I started the pre-PPV intense workout in the basement.

We'd just finished when I got a text from Kelly.

_Don't forget to be at the arena at 6 tonight. _

_I kno, I kno. We'll be there._

I sent as I undressed in my bathroom, preparing to take a shower.

_So have you talked to Punk yet?_

I smiled and turned on the built-in camera on my phone.

"Pst. Say cheese."

I said to Punk who was standing next to me. He shot me a huge, toothy grin, and I sent it to Kelly.

_Ah. Good to know. Though next time I'd love just a 'yeah, were good' and not a picture of Punk half naked. Thanks. _

I laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Punk asked leaning against the sink in my bathroom in only his boxer briefs.

"I just set that picture to Kelly. And she said ew."

I smiled as I replied to her text.

_Hahah I'll try and remember that. :P_

"Come on, the water's going to get cold."

I put my phone down on the sink counter, and stepped over the wall of the old tub and under the hot water.

We'd eventually made it out of the shower, and dressed to leave for the arena.

I packed my duffel bag, and followed Punk down stairs.

When I walked into the front room, I witnessed Jakie putting Rosie's jacket on backwards.

Admittedly it was absolutely hilarious, but I repressed a laugh.

"Is everyone ready to go?" Bec asked walking towards us.

I was crouching down to fix Rosie's jacket.

Bec had handed Jakie his White Cane, or what I liked to call his finding stick.

Because it finds things…

I picked up Rosie, and my duffel bag, and the five of us left the house.

It was slightly chilly out, and it was just before sunset.

I wasn't excited for later when it would be almost twenty degrees colder.

It was only two blocks from the house to the arena; it was barely past six when we arrived.

I brought Jakie, Bec and Rosie into the viewing room, where they could hang out and meet a bunch of Superstars.

Rosie did have a crush on John Cena; that would be a fun introduction.

Punk and I left the three of them to get ready for the show.

We were walking down the hallway, Punk's arms around my shoulders, and face next to mine.

We were talking and laughing about something when I noticed Dolph and Randy down a dark hallway talking. And it didn't seem like a fun chat either.

Dolph had a look on his face that said 'I'm scared shitless, but I'm not going to let it show.'

And Randy was definitely turning up the intimidation.

I didn't pay too much attention to them, because my arch nemesis and her flying monkey were striding towards us.

I dialed up the cuteness between me and Punk.

I placed my hands on his arms that were draped over my shoulders, and turned my face to press my lips to his cheek.

I heard a scoff come from one of the two bimbos from loser-town.

I let out a bark of laughter. But other than that, I didn't pay them much mind either.

Punk and I were good, and that's all that really mattered.

I kissed Punk once more before I left him for the Diva's dressing room.

I passed through the curtained doorway and saw Kelly sitting in her street clothes.

"What's up?" I asked her, tossing my bag on the floor next to her and plopped down on a chair.

"Triple H says I'm still not cleared for action. Not for another week or so." She sighed.

"And since I can't do anything, there really isn't any use for me to change. God, I wish I could remember who attacked me. I'd fucking kick their ass."

At that my brows shot up, she turned her head to me.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just been a long time since I've heard you drop the F bomb!"

"I'm pissed though! Triple H said that the cameras in that hallway weren't working because of some problem the arena was having before we showed up."

"That's stupid." I agreed, removing my shoes.

She continued ranting while I undressed, and switched into my ring gear.

Unlike Kelly, I had a very important match tonight.

"Well, if you want, Jake and Bec are in the viewing room, you can go see them." I told her.

She'd met Jakie and Bec more than once before, at other PPVs and shows, and even when I was on vacation.

After almost three years of being my best friend; she'd have to meet the other one at some point.

She sighed and stood.

"Yeah, I will. Are you going to meet us there before your match?"

I smiled at her and nodded.

At that she left me alone to get changed.

I had just finished pulling my bottoms when Kaitlyn and AJ entered the locker room.

They didn't pay me any mind, mostly because I was stuffed away in a corner and they probably didn't even notice me.

But I like to think it was because they were starting to feel intimidated by me.

"Oh yeah, our plan is fool proof. Only an idiot could screw it up." Kaitlyn stated, I laughed internally and noted to myself that whatever plan she was involved in was far from fool proof.

But however much I laughed, them having a plan meant something was going to go down.

And with Kaitlyn and Dolph, anything was possible.

I finished listening to them, and continued dressing.

When I pulled off my tank top, leaving my left shoulder completely bare, I heard a light gasp from across the room followed by some hurried whispers.

I just smiled. It was nothing new to me.

I finished with fitting my top, and went to tying my laces.

The twosomes whispering had subsided by the time I'd finished with my boots, and they were surly going to break out into a full on conversation once I left the locker room.

I grabbed the trainers' tape I always had in my bag, and went off to visit my dear friend Mr. Trainer.


	19. Anything For My Baby

After my fifteen minute wrapping session, I felt pumped and went off to start my pre-show work out.

Once I'd finished running the arena, and stretching my face off, I went back to the viewing room to check on Jakie and them.

When I'd walked into the room, tension seemed to be on high.

"What's going on in here?" I asked turning to Bec, Jakie and Kelly.

The three of them wore horrified faces, my blood started pumping.

"We can't find Rosie!"

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.

"I let her poke her head out the door to see if she could find John Cena, and I look over and she's gone!" Bec told me, about to break down.

"Alright, calm down. I'll go look for her. She couldn't have gone far." I said backing out of the room again.

I glanced at Jakie, who seemed the most distraught of the threesome.

No doubt why.

He was used to not seeing people, but not knowing where his only daughter was, was probably eating him up inside.

I turned from the room, and walked for a few minutes until I reached the men's locker room.

I saw a few guys leave, like Jack Swagger, David Otunga, and JTG.

It was a few moments later, I saw Randy walk around the corner carrying a small, blonde, bundle in his arms.

"See, I told you I'd find Eli!" he said, looking down at the little girl in his arms.

The child turned her blonde locks back, and laid her jade green eyes on me.

Her arms instantly went out for me.

I strode up to Randy and she practically fell out of his arms, and into mine.

"Rosie, where did you go? Mommy and daddy are very worried about you!" I said in a hushed, chastising voice.

She just shrugged and looked away.

Yup.

My dog dirt personality.

"When I found her she was mumbling something about John Cena…" Randy trailed off, a bit confused.

I sighed.

"Yeah. I supposed we should go find him. She's got quite the crush on him." I repressed a laugh, but Randy let out a chuckle.

Rosie looked up at him with a big smile.

"Someone has a new crush…" I said, Rosie instantly looked away from Randy; her face all red.

That I had to laugh at, Randy did too.

Randy placed his hand on her head and smiled at her.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

I busted out laughing harder.

"Someone's balls-ie!"

We laughed for a few more moments then I heard my name from down the hall.

When I looked back I saw Kelly walking towards the three of us.

"Hey Kel, we were just laughing at Rosie. She's too damn cute."

I smiled at her then down at the toddler in my arms.

She was burring her face in my neck in embarrassment.

"Rand, I think we embarrassed her." He chuckled and rubbed her head.

"We should bring her back to her parents." She reminded me that the child had been missing up until a few moments ago.

"Right, I almost forgot." I paused and leaned down to Rosie's ear.

"Say bye to Randy, Rosie." She popped her head up enough to look over my shoulder and wave to him.

He just smiled and turned back towards the locker room.

When he was out of sight, Kelly looked at me.

"Hopefully that doesn't happen too often."

I cocked a brow.

"What are you talking about?"

She shot me a look saying 'what are _you_ talking about?'

"You and Randy talking like that and acting almost cute." She said that with a twinge of disgust.

She was never too keen on me being involved with Randy.

"You were practically flirting with him."

"Kel. I was not flirting with anyone! We were just talking. About Rosie even. He was the one who found her wondering the halls."

"Alright." She said after a moment of studying my face.

"But before you're forced to spend any more time with him, you might want to decide what you feel about him. Because it seems to me that there might still be something there."

I stared at her as she walked away, with my jaw wide open.

How could she possibly think that I still had feelings for Randy, after what he did to me?

I was about to ask, when Punk stuck his head out the doorway.

"Guys she found her!"

As I walked into the room I could literally feel the air they were holding just in case I couldn't find Rosie, rush out of everyone's lungs.

I smiled at Bec as she quickly came over.

Rosie popped her head up from my shoulder and looked at her mother's distraught face and leapt from my arms to hers.

I looked away from the scene, seeing that Kelly was still giving me her disapproving look.

I repressed a sigh; more headaches for later.

"Where did you end up finding her?" Punk asked his arm wrapped around my shoulders lazily.

"She was just hanging out outside the guys' locker room, looking for John of course." I half smiled at my half-truth.

It wasn't that I was hiding that fact that I accidentally met up with Randy from Punk, it was that Jakie did not like Randy what so ever.

Not even if he was the one who kept his only daughter from getting lost, or worse.

Kelly seemed to think it was the first part.

But it wasn't a big deal.

"Now, if she wants to meet John before his match tonight, then we should find him ASAP!"

Rosie squealed in excitement and started hopping up and down on Bec's arm until she caved in and let Rosie down.

The child walked to me and we strode out the door.

"Eli, try to be back in like ten minutes, ok?" Bec called from inside the room. I turned around and grabbed Punk by the shirt.

"Not a problem." I smiled, Bec did too, and the three of us took off down the hall way.

Rosie led the way waddling down the hallway towards the men's locker room.

Punk and I just hung back a few feet, holding hands and laughing quietly at Rosie.

Johnny turned the corner towards us, and almost ran over Rosie as she barreled through the arena.

She paused a moment and looked up at him, then scrunched up her nose, and continued to walk away.

"What's her problem?" Johnny asked as we passed by him to catch up with Rosie.

"You're not Cena." I laughed.

"But I know where he is!" at that I saw Rosie stop, turn around, and walk back towards Johnny.

When she stood next to him she barely came up to his knee cap.

She slapped the back of his bare leg; Johnny looked down at her in surprise.

She shot him a huge, sickly, sweet smile and hugged his leg.

"Good grief! She's a miniature you!" he exclaimed, turning to me.

I just laughed; it was true.

"So are you going to leave this poor, adorable child waiting to see her hero or what man?"

At that, Rosie looked up at him her big green eyes practically bursting out of the sockets.

He sighed and picked her up.

"Come on, he's this way." Johnny grumbled as he headed in the opposite direction we were.

Punk and I held back a few feet like before.

"Are you ready for tonight?" he whispered close to me. I turned my head and looked up at him.

I had a feeling he didn't mean physically.

I nodded.

"Are you going to listen to me out there?"

I shrugged and he let out a puff of laughter.

"But seriously, will you be able to keep your head in check, or am I going to want to think twice before I tag you?"

"Punk, I'll be fine. Quit worrying." I said stepping up on my tippy-toes and kissing him on the lips.

A few moments later we found John.

He was standing around with Sheamus and a Bella twin.

I wasn't sure which one.

It didn't matter too much, because when I approached the threesome she dismissed herself from the group almost immediately.

Not a surprise since they hated me.

I used to be more of a whore then them, and apparently I'd intruded on their territory somehow.

I said my hellos to the two guys, then let Rosie go crazy.

"Hey John. This is my niece Rosie, she's your number one fan." I smiled as John went to grab her from Johnny's grasp.

It was a few moments before it all went to hell, probably because Randy hadn't made his appearance in the conversation yet.

"I see someone found you, eh Cena?" I heard his sickly cool voice from behind Punk and me.

Punk looked down at me, probably wondering how Randy knew she was looking for John.

I gave him a sheepish smile.


	20. Start 'Er Up

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you met up with Randy when you were looking for Rosie." Punk complained after we'd returned Rosie to her parents and were in a darkened hallway.

The show had started not half-an-hour ago, and there was a bunch of traffic backstage.

We were lucky to find some place quiet.

"I was not lying, just avoiding the truth. But not from you, from Jakie. He hates Randy. And I was going to tell you, but it never came up. It wasn't like I was secretly meeting him or anything I saw him with Rosie in the hallway and we were chatting. That's it."

"Since when do you just chat with anyone?" Punk asked.

The conversation wasn't as heavy as it seemed.

It was mostly just some light banter with a tiny bit of attitude.

But I dropped my jaw at Punk.

I knew, deep down, that he meant nothing by it but to make a joke about my flirtatious past, but this was Randy, and there was nothing cute and flirty about that chunk of my life.

Only stupidity.

And heartache.

"I can when they treat me like crap."

I crossed my arms and looked away.

I was actually kind of insulted at the notion that Punk was thinking that I might still have a thing for Randy.

From Kelly was one thing, but from Punk was a whole other ballgame.

"Hey, I was kidding. I'm sorry." Punk said immediately after figuring out that his words had offended me.

He finagled his hand between my two arms and fitted his fingers between mine.

I smiled and instantly forgave him.

"Come on, our match it next." He said, pulling me up to my feet.

He leaned down and kissed me.

"What was that for?" I asked curiously, not that I minded.

"Why not?" he leaned down and kissed me again.

Now as much as I'd love to get freaky-deaky with him in the hall, we both had a match to win, and that would just be a distraction.

So instead of stripping down right then and there, we made our way to Gorilla where it was T-minus fifteen minutes to match time.

I was stoked.

Kaitlyn and Dolph were a few minutes behind us.

The plan was for those two to go out first, then me and Punk.

Which sounded good enough.

It let the audience get out all their boos before we appeared.

Vicki Guerrero was also lodged up Dolph's ass when his music started.

But unlike Kaitlyn, I had my own music, and I planned on entering the arena with it.

Once his music stopped, it was my turn.

I gave Punk a swift kiss, and stood from my sitting position against the wall.

The tech guy at the music board gave me a slight nod as he started my music.

As usual, I waited a few seconds before I appeared on the stage, and once I did, the crowd went wild.

I got a bunch of hoots and hollers, which fueled my Earth sized ego.

As I approached the ring, I made a point to remember not to go into the ring yet.

I may have been full of myself, but I wasn't stupid.

Especially when there is a royally ticked off Kaitlyn in there just waiting to kick my ass.

Or at least try to.

Once my music ended, Punks started.

And it wasn't only half the crowd, like it had been with me, that came alive.

It seemed that every person in the arena was standing on their tippy-toes trying to get a look at the Straight Edge superstar.

He hopped up onto the ring apron, prompting me to climb the steps into the ring.

His music stopped, the bell rang, and the match that would determine the flow of the rest of my career was underway.


	21. That Guy

Ok.

So if anything, this match proved that I wasn't invincible like I so proclaimed.

I was lying flat on my back, breathless, before I realized that the ref had just said two.

Out of sheer adrenaline I was able to lift a shoulder off of the mat, and came to a harsh truth.

I needed to tag Punk.

I'd managed to kick Kaitlyn in the gut, which allowed me to crawl my way across the ring to Punk; who was trying to reach me just as desperately.

I was barely an inch from his fingertips, when suddenly his hand disappeared.

Dolph had pulled Punk's legs right out from under him making him smack his head off the apron.

Once Punk regained his composure he quickly started with the punches to Dolph's skull.

I strained to make it to my feet; every muscle in my body screamed for me to stop and just lay down.

If only for a moment.

But my mind refused to give in.

Under me, my legs felt like jelly and I could barely process what was happening in the arena around me.

But what I did see was Kaitlyn charging right for me in the corner.

With instinct kicking in, I slipped my legs between the second and top rope, narrowly escaping her attack.

Within the split second I had between when she hit the turn buckles and when she started to back away, I wretched my aching legs up and kicked her.

Right in the kisser.

With my blood starting to pump, I was able to take advantage of her dazed condition.

I climbed to the top rope, and jumped square on her.

When we landed, I felt my head snap back and crash against the canvas.

But in my head injury didn't hinder me from rolling on top of Kaitlyn and getting the pin.

Next thing I remember, Punk is half carrying me back to the locker room.

"Hey, babe, can you hear me?" Punk asked after I'd plopped my ass on a cool metal chair.

I nodded absentmindedly, just because I could hear him didn't mean I knew what the hell was going on.

"I'm going to go get the medic to check your head out. You hit it pretty hard."

I just kept nodding my head, wanting so badly just to relax on the floor.

Sitting in a chair was way too much work for my battered limbs.

I thought it over for a few moments then collapsed along my chair.

My sweat drenched body slid down the cool steal seat with much ease.

I plopped down on my knees then to my chest.

I didn't even try to cushion the fall.

At that point it didn't really matter.

I laid there for a few moments and just breathed.

Breathing never felt so good.

I hadn't realized how much that match took out of my body until right then.

I would have fallen asleep too, if it weren't for Punk being an awesome boyfriend and bringing the medic to check me out.

"Eli! Are you ok?"

I had to put some effort into rolling on to my back, even though I was ridiculously comfortable on my stomach.

When I'd finally made it onto my back, I looked up to Punk.

Ok, so maybe everyone was taking my utter exhaustion as something more.

"I'm fine. Just really fucking tired." I smiled.

But before I could actually sell my condition, my skull radiated pain like it had just been shot.

I winced and grabbed the back of my head.

At that the medic moved into place opposite Punk, and started shining lights in my eyes.

I'd had my fair share of concussions, but I could just feel this wasn't one.

Or that was what I was praying for.

"I think she's fine. Just a bump on the head. But just to make sure, try not to fall asleep for the next 10 hours or so and don't drink any alcohol."

I sighed.

More so the first bit, but subconsciously the last part too.

"God, I'm so damn exhausted! All I want to do is sleep!" I whined raking my fingers through my hair.

"I think we can come up with some ways to keep you awake?" Punk said earning him a cocked brow from me.

He just smiled that absolutely gorgeous shit-eating-grin.

I couldn't help but smile, even though I was in stupid amounts of pain.

The medic left, but was soon replaced by Kelly.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" she asked from the doorway.

I didn't even get to answer before the locker room was filled with people who were worrying way too much about me.

Tonight was going to be a long night.


	22. Come Sail Away

"For the last time. I. Am. Fine. I swear the next person to ask me a stupid question is going to get it."

I'd finally reached my breaking point with these people.

Frankly, it didn't matter that they were the people I called family, they were pissing me off!

We were back at the house, Rosie was sound asleep, and Bec and Jakie felt compelled to stay up with me and Punk all night.

I groaned at the thought of dealing with these people any longer.

They'd already poured an entire pot of coffee down my throat, what else did they want from me?

It was now quiet in the living room.

I sat, almost squished, between Punk and Jakie, Bec on the other side of him.

Punk, Bec and I were watching some infomercial about hot tubs, and Jakie was reading, or rather 'fingering' a book.

Then suddenly, I remembered something.

"Bec, don't you have to work tomorrow?" I asked turning towards her, she just shrugged.

"It's fine. I don't have to go in until, like, 11AM." She stated nonchalantly.

I looked up at the clock next to the TV, it reading almost past two in the morning.

Sure it was a good nine hours before she would have to be there, but she was a doctor.

She needed a full night's sleep.

"And plus, it's barely past two. I can get enough sleep in just a few hours."

I gave her a disapproving look.

I was a professional athlete and I knew the importance of sleep, however few hours I did get.

"Bec, peoples' lives are depending on you when you're at the hospital. You can't half ass that shit."

She sighed, knowing that I didn't really care about the people at the hospital; I just wanted her out of my hair.

I know, it sounds bad.

But it was true.

"And Jakie, you have a two-year-old to take care of all day tomorrow! How are you supposed to do that when you haven't gone to bed yet and she wakes up at 7:30am sharp?"

They couldn't deny that I had some pretty solid points.

"If you just want to get rid of us, all you had to-" Jakie started before I cut him off, anticipating his words.

"Leave. Now." I said in a dry tone.

I loved them.

But seriously, they'd done enough.

And being the good people they are, they did just that and left.

Not without some sort of reminder that I wasn't allowed to sleep, and making another pot of coffee for me.

Once they were gone, I quickly downed the black, rubbery, drink that would help me stay up for at least a few more hours.

"That was subtle." Punk smirked as we sat on the couch watching yet again the same infomercial we'd been staring at for the past four hours.

Ok, so maybe it wasn't the most tactful thing I'd ever done.

But hell, it got them out of my hair.

"You know me, the 'Master of Subtlety'." I smiled snuggling into his shoulder.

I didn't have to look up at him and see him yawn to know he was exhausted.

It'd been a long day for him.

He'd gone all of last night without sleeping, then hopped a long ass train ride from D.C. to Jersey, got a three hour power nap, went down stairs and did an extensive pre-PPV workout, then did the actual PPV.

And now I was forcing him to stay up the entire night with me?

That just wasn't fair.

I tilted my head up just as he tilted his down.

I stared into his droopy, almost glazed over, eyes.

"Babe, go to bed. You look exhausted." I said rubbing his belly that I loved so much.

But he shook his head.

"I'm used to not sleeping. Plus we have the day off tomorrow until we have to leave for Boston." He reminded me, stretching out and wrapping his arms around me.

"Well, at least go upstairs and lay down."

At that he smirked.

"Only if you come with me."

I could see a twinge of play in his eyes, and I was defenseless against his utter cuteness.

I groaned and stood.

I knew the only way to get him to go to bed would be if I went to lay with him.

But not sleep.

And that was the worst part.

I had to lay in my nice, plush, comfortable as hell bed and _not_ fall asleep.

At least not for a few more hours.

As I stood, I felt a little dizzy, but it quickly passed and Punk got up as well.

"You ok?" he asked probably able to see me almost fall over.

I nodded, grabbed his hand, and started pulling him towards my room.

"Oh no you don't." he said from behind me.

Before I could ask what the hell he was talking about, Punk came and literally, swept me off my feet.

And on to his shoulder.

"Hey! Come on! Put me down!" I whined, but I wasn't completely upset.

As I dangled there, I did get a great view of his ass.

"Eh, never mind. I like the view down here." I giggled a bit, then was suddenly thrown down on that ridiculously, heaven-like bed I was musing about before.

"Well, if I wasn't dizzy before I sure as hell am now." I muttered.

Punk probably heard me, but didn't do anything other than plop down next to me.

I rolled on my side and faced him, staring intently at him.

I was about to speak when Punk beat me too it, completely stunning me speechless.

"You want to do it?"

It took a few moments, after some incessant blinking and gaping, for me to come back to the world around me.

Punk just laid there, his hands behind his head, and smirked.

"Well?" he asked, obviously toying with me.

"What did I say about stupid questions?" I smirked, lifting my leg over his waist and leaning down to his face.

I kissed my way down his neck and to his ear.

"Well?" I whispered, mimicking him from moments before.

I heard a chuckle come from his lips as I lifted his shirt over his head and continued my sweet torture along his shoulders.

"I'm going to 'get it'?" he rasped as my tongue and lips ran ramped over his now sizzling flesh.

"Oh yeah, you're going to get it." My voice vibrated against his chest, making goosebumps breakout all along his torso.

I smiled.

"Oh, I hope so." He muttered.

Even though it was utterly horrible dirty talk, that I started, he was damn good at it.

He knew just what to say to make me go crazy.

I'd deprived myself from this man for a whole day and a half, I needed him; physically and emotionally.

He'd once told the world that he was addicted to competition.

Well he's my addiction, and he knew it.

But it wasn't just his body I was addicted to; it was his soul.

I let out a groan of absolute pleasure at that fact that he was just lying here, let alone letting me have my way with him.

I could feel my own body start to react to Punk.

Every pore in my body alive and dripping sweat in anticipation. I pulled from his body and pealed the red flannel shirt from my body, tossing it to the floor.

I couldn't take being so far away from him, even just a few inches for just a few moments.

But a few inches was a few too many for me.

I couldn't even get my tank top off before I was back pressed against his chest; my lips against his.

Sensing that I was having trouble with my shirt, his hands came to my skin, like cold fire, and pulled it along my torso.

When it came time for the shirt to come over my head, I couldn't move.

I wouldn't breathe if it meant that I had to pull from this man, even for a split second.

But somehow I managed the tiniest of moments.

I pulled my mouth from his, his bottom lip slipping between my teeth.

I gripped it lightly and let it slowly slip from my grasp.

All the while my gaze never left Punks eyes.

Finally, I was free from the red tank top and I could feel my flesh against Punks.

Instantly, I went back to caressing his chest.

"Someone's antsy." I'd barely heard Punk speak over the pounding of my heart in my ears. I felt like a virgin again, it was that bad.

"Not antsy, just excited." I muttered, snaking my body down his torso to his stomach that I could never get enough of.

"Hmm, then you should runaway more often." Punk muttered.

I immediately stopped my trek down his body and whipped my body upright.

I furrowed my brows at his insinuation that I'd runaway.

It didn't matter if I was engrossing myself in his flesh, my ego always rode shotgun, even if I didn't want it to.

And this time was no exception.

Even though I was thoroughly enjoying myself, tasting Punks skin, I couldn't stop my body from reacting to his words.

Why would he ruin such an amazing moment, when he knew I was crazy like that?

I was about to say something when Punk sat up and flopped me onto my back on the bed.

My offended brows lifted into shock.

But he didn't lose a beat, and kept on molesting my neck and chest with his lips.

"Oh, much better." He rumbled against the nape of my neck.

I groaned as I realized he had just played me.

"If that was all you wanted, I would have gladly rolled over." I said matter-of-factly.

I felt his fingers slip behind my arched back, and try and unclasp my bra.

"Having troubles?"

I stifled a giggle as I spoke.

Punk slipped his other hand behind me to try and figure the contraption out.

"Hey, did I make fun of you when you were having your own troubles earlier? No I didn't."

I smiled at him and reached my hands back.

Punk's hands moved from working on the clasp, to holding him up on the mattress.

It wasn't even a second after I'd placed my hands onto the clasp, that the bra came undone.

Punk just stared from above me, brows furrowed and jaw dropped melodramatically.

"Oh, and my troubles weren't because I couldn't figure it out, it was because I was too enthralled with touching you that I didn't want to stop." I smiled as I reached a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to me.

I kissed him deeply, making him forget about his pretend anger towards me.

Within moments we were both had the same priority; being naked. Punk's hands pulled at my bra, making it slip from my shoulders and off my arms.

I heard it lightly hit the floor, and Punk's mouth started to descend down my body.

I could feel his teeth nipping at the ultra-sensitive skin on the underside of my breasts; I inhaled a sharp breath as he spent his sweet time torturing the skin.

After another moment or so, Punk continued his devastation on my body, downward.

His fingers wrapped around the jeans I wore home from the arena.

He played with the button and fly contraptions for less than a moment, and slipping my pants and underwear down my legs with ease.

I let out a small giggle.

"What's so funny?" Punk asked, looking up at me from his kissing on my belly.

"The fact that you could figure out my pants just fine, but needed help with my bra." I smirked his trademark shit-eating grin.

He held a mischievous gaze with mine, and shook his head.

He didn't say anything, but he did pick a spot on my stomach, just below the ink that spread across the skin, and started to suck.

"Hey, don't be giving me a hickey, not there at least! I have to suit up tomorrow!" I reminded him.

But he didn't budge.

Punk's mouth remained attached to the left half of my lower stomach, but still not low enough to be hidden under my wrestling gear.

I groaned.

I'd have to figure out a way to conceal the love bite.

Punk just bit down on the tender skin he was sucking hard on.

Even though I wasn't too pleased that Punk was going to leave a giant, purple welt on my stomach, I can't deny that it felt damn good.

I ran my fingers through that brown hair of his that I loved so much.

It still damp from the hot shower we took when we first arrived home.

His beard and absolutely amazing mustache tickled my abdomen as he moved his mouth on the same spot for a few more moments.

I could feel the flesh start to swell, and knew it would be a perfect bulls eye tomorrow.

Speaking of swelling flesh…

Once I felt Punks mouth leave my skin, I sat up and straddled his knees.

His hands came to my hips, smoothing over the skin with an overwhelming genius.

I kissed him feverishly, distracting him long enough to push him to his back.

He landed with a plop, and as I looked at him from my kneeling position, I could see he was bummed.

Apparently, he wasn't finished with me just yet.

I just shot him a grin, and snaked my hands down his bent legs, to his waist.

I leaned forward and kissed the top of his stomach and continued further down.

My hands and mouth met just below his belly button and right near his jeans button and fly.

I undid them swiftly, and persisted my taunting him.

A hand slipped under the denim and cotton fabrics, and rested on his bare hip, just west of his throbbing member.

"Goddamn, why are you fingers so cold all the time?" Punk asked, taking in a sharp breath.

I smiled, and slid down his thigh further, forcing his pants with it.

Eventually, I was able to pull them completely off, with his boxers, and cast them aside.

Finally, we were naked.

And just the thought of what we were going to do next was enough to make me come.

I had to force myself to not think ahead.

My thighs straddled his hips, my hands pressed against his chest, and I was about to lower myself on to his manhood, when Punk spoke.

"You sure you can manage it this time?" he asked, grinning that shit-eating grin of his.

I narrowed my eyes at him playfully.

"I got this."

I knew the angle he was trying to pull.

He just wanted me to roll over so he could be on top.

Well not this time, at least not yet.

Punk propped himself on his elbows, and I leaned down and kissed him gently, my fingertips lightly touching the scruff on his jaw.

I let my knees bend while my lips were still pressed to his, but I had to pull away to gasp.

This was new.

Sure I'd been around the block a few times, but it was completely different right now with Punk.

Apparently, I was taking too long in revel this new sensation, because Punk jerked his hips up, almost pushing me over the edge.

I felt my stomach muscles clench and my fingers tensioned, all from that one bump.

I sighed, and looked at Punk.

He knew what I was going to say.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" he smirked wider than ever at the thought of me admitting defeat _and_ him getting his way.

I sighed, assuming his answer.

"Fine." I paused to take a breath.

"Punk" I started.

But I didn't get out another word before I was flat on my back again.

"Sorry. I just assumed this is what you wanted."

His voice was laced with cockiness.

He was in charge now, and he knew it.


	23. I Really Need to Stop Doing That

**Hey. It's been a while... sort of. But no worries. I'm back and working on a lot of chapters. I have a few done and will be posting them periodically during the month. Plus writing more =) So please. Remember to review! And have fun!**

Punk and I just laid there in my bed, and relaxed.

I turned my head towards him.

He looked even more drained now.

"Babe, seriously. Go to sleep. You've been up for practically twenty-four hours."

"Are you going to be able to stay up a few more hours by yourself?"

That was a good question.

"Probably. I'll just turn on some Batman or something and watch that all night."

I heard Punk sigh and make a ridiculous face.

"How can you watch that so religiously? It legit confuses the hell out of me every time."

I laughed.

"I promise, I'll explain it to you some day. Just go to sleep."

I pleaded for the last time, because Punk sighed and leaned towards me.

I pecked him on the lips a few times, then forced myself to stop so he could finally crash for the night.

I could see Punk physically relax after a few moments.

He was so tense after staying up all night and running on practically empty all day long.

Once I knew he was asleep, I reached for the remote and started flipping through channels on the T.V at the foot of my bed.

I clicked past the usual channels that had cartoons on, nothing good.

As I was re-flipping through, I saw a show that looked even the slightest bit interesting.

I sat there for the next few hours, my hand laced in with Punks, watching some random show and trying like hell not to fall asleep.

I stared, completely brain-dead at the T.V screen for almost four hours now.

I could see the sun starting to come up from the bleak, late November darkness.

I felt Punk stir next to me.

I looked down at him, his hazel eyes peeking out from behind their lids.

It was rather light in here compared to the darkness he'd fall asleep in.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

I glanced at the clock over my shoulder.

"Just past seven."

He groaned.

"What's wrong?"

His eyes started to open further as be began.

"I can't sleep when you're not in my arms. In case the past couple of nights haven't been enough proof for you."

He was always so venerable when he first woke up.

He'd say just about anything that was on his mind, more so than usual.

"When did the doctor say you could go to bed?"

I pondered for a moment, trying to get my fried brain to remember something that happened so many hours ago.

"Eight AM."

"It's close enough. Come here." Punk demanded of me with his arms stretched out wide.

I smiled and curled right into them kissing him as I laid there.

"Don't forget that we need to leave here by noon to make it to the train on time."

Punk groaned again.

"You do know that flying would take barely an hour to get to Boston compared to a five hour train ride."

"Punk, I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but if people were meant to fly, we would have been born with wings!"

But I was so tired I couldn't stifle the yawn that came immediately after.

I burrowed my face deep into Punks chest.

I could barely hear him, but could surly feel him, chuckle at my objection to flying.

But as I lay there, I realized just how exhausted I'd been, and fell fast asleep.

The week passed spectacularly.

I usually just sat on the couch a vegetated while I was home, but Punk broke me of that.

Actually, I think the only time I actually got to rest was just before I went to sleep.

We usually work off of three or four hours of sleep a night, but with all the adventures, and trouble, we'd been getting into this past week, I needed a hell of a lot more.

When we arrived back in Jersey, Tuesday morning from Boston, we literally slept all day.

Or at least I did.

I was thankful that I wasn't scheduled to wrestle Monday; I was way too tired to stand up straight, let alone preform.

So when Thursday night rolled around, I was ecstatic to finally pull on my comfy clothes, consisting of my favorite batman t-shirt, and sleep pants with Christmas trees printed on them.

I walked into the middle of the empty space of my room, and stopped at the sound of something amazing.

"What are you laughing at?" I squinted at Punk.

"Nice pants."

I gaped at him for a moment, trying to realize why my favorite pants were so funny.

"How come this is my first time seeing this outfit?" he kept laughing.

"Well, maybe because every night this week we've both slept naked 'cause every night we come home and _someone_ has to get turned on!"

I stared at Punk.

"I mean really, that door can't be closed for more than five seconds before clothes start flying!"

I pointed to the door that, when opened, would show the seventeen step staircase that led down to the foyer of my childhood home.

"And maybe you should look in the mirror since it's you who keeps jumping me."

My jaw dropped exaggeratedly, sucked in a big gasp and my hand covered my mouth.

"It's not my fault you keep taunting me!"

"By lying down? How is that taunting?"

I dropped my arms and shot him a "well…" look.

"Well, if you must know, when you lay down, your shirt rides up a little and I can see your belly. And plus,"

I said after my short pause to marvel in the memories of his delectable tummy.

"You're the only man to ever sleep in my bed, it's kind of exciting." I admitted sheepishly.

Aside from Jakie, from when we were like ten, Punk was the only guy to be in my bed.

Ever.

"Well, on that note!" Punk said, pulling off his shirt.

"What are you doing? We need sleep!" I reminded him.

It wasn't like I didn't want to, but it was already past midnight, and we had to wake up at nine to get ready to leave.

His jeans were next, then he looked up at me.

"I'm getting in my pj's too." He said, hopping in to bed, underneath the now purple bed spread.

I'll admit black bedspread was a bad idea.

Punk propped himself on his elbow and waved me over.

I smiled and complied, climbing into bed next to him.

I snuggled right into him, then came to a depressing conclusion.

"The light is still on." I groaned, not wanting to leave my-oh-so comfy bed, or Punk.

My eyes were shut, but I kept talking.

"I'll do anything, if you turn off the light."

I felt his chest rise in laughter, then pull away.

I sighed, repressing a groan, because I was the one who asked him to do it.

And I was way too damn exhausted to complain.

We snuggled back together, and within moments, we were both soundly asleep.


	24. Rawr

I awoke the next morning to hands roaming over my torso.

Normal so far.

Until I realized that my hands were rubbing my eyes and not my stomach.

Quickly I sat up, resting on my elbows, and looked down to see Punk's arms disappear under my shirt.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, looking over at his face, which looked utterly shocked, like I'd just caught him red handed.

And I kind of had.

His eyes were wide with brows raised, and his hand stopped moving along my flesh.

"Well, I was hoping to do this while you were still asleep."

I heard him grumble the last part under his breath.

"What are you talking about?"

I was starting to get a little nervous.

Punk just smiled a devilish grin, and grasped my hands in his.

Now I was nervous.

"Babe?"

"You know, I'm starting to see your fixation with stomachs."

I scoffed.

"I do not have a fixation with stomachs."

Punk looked up with a cocked brow.

"I do, however, have quite the one with yours." I smiled.

"But seriously, what are you doing?"

"Well, last night I seem to recall you said something that you probably shouldn't have."

I furrowed my brows trying to think of what I could have said.

"And I intend to take full advantage of the offer."

Still I had no idea what I'd said, until I heard what Punk said next.

"'Anything' is quiet broad..."

And at his muttered words, the sleepy ramblings from last night echoed in my head.

"That's not fair! I was tired! Nothing I say can be taken seriously when I'm not thinking straight! I meant like, wash your back or something!"

But his grip on my hands and his smirk across his lips just got worse.

"Consider this the 'or something'."

He smiled and set his lips against the softness of my stomach, and started to suck.

"Punk, come on! The last hickey you gave me is just now starting to go away!" I complained but did nothing to stop him.

I loved it when he was like this.

All disobedient.

And sexy.

After a few more moments, I groaned, earning me a hard bite from Punk.

"At least give me my hands back! You know I can't just sit here the whole time!"

I saw the faint curve of a smile on the edge of his lips as he sat up, my hands still trapped in his.

"Why would I do that?" he smiled shifting his body over mine.

I looked up at Punk's face, it directly above me.

His hands were laced with mine, and pressed hard against the pillow under my head.

He lowered his face to mine, lightly brushing his rough facial hair against my cheek, then pressing his lips to mine.

I groaned as I kissed him, and tried vainly to free my hands from his entrapment.

"I know what you have to do as payment for me turning off the light last night." He whispered against my lips.

My mind was lost as he spoke; it took all I had to come back for a moment.

But I couldn't muster the strength to open my eyes, not with his lips so close.

I let out a noise that, hopefully, conveyed that I wanted to know more.

I heard a chuckled.

He continued.

"You have to lie there, and not use your hands."

My eyes shot open.

"For anything."

I was looking at him in the eyes in complete and utter shock; he just kept on smirking.

"You can't be serious…"

I trailed off, hoping he was.

But the look in his eyes screamed dead seriousness.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

His smirked widened.

"You know do how impossible that is, right?"

"Extremely."

But he didn't seem too worried at his words, which worried me.

His lips begun again at mine.

His hands slowly started to retreat to my sides; leaving mine empty and confused.

Every fiber in my body yearned to slip deep into his chocolate locks.

As I pondered it, I couldn't recall what was stopping me from actually doing it.

"Oh, and if you can't keep your hands to yourself, I'll be forced to make you."

God, this man knows me so well.

"That sounds fun."

That earned me a hazel glance and a cocked brow.

I smirked.

And he continued his sweet torture.

"Are you two freaks up yet? It's already past ten!" I heard Jakie yell up the stairs.

At first I was annoyed that he would be breaking up such an amazing moment.

Then I realized that he said it was past ten.

I looked over at the alarm clock on the bed side table, it confirming Jakie's words.

I took in a big breath.

"What?"

I could feel Punk jump as I screamed and practically threw him off of me.

I went to the closet, grabbed our suitcases, and started to fill them with stuff I was hoping we'd need.

We were late.

I glanced back at the bed, seeing an absolutely gorgeous and stunned Punk laying there, half under the blanket.

"Let's go!" I said, grabbing his hands and pulling him towards the edge of the bed.

He stood and proceeded to put on his pants.

"Why is it again, that we had to wake up so damn early?" Punk asked as he bent down next to me and started pulling clothes from the luggage.

The same clothes I was packing into said cases.

"We need to be in North Carolina before five." I said putting the shirt he'd taken out, back in to the suit case.

"And it's a 12 hour ride. How are we going to get there?" he picked up the same shirt from the case and held it in his hands.

I straightened out, as did he, and gave him a grumpy look.

He knew very well how we were to get to North Carolina, he was just playing stupid.

But I didn't answer.

I just turned from him and grabbed the basket filled with clean laundry, and started to pack it into our luggage.

"Are you going to help or what?" I asked, sounding a bit cranky.

I was.

Although I got a pretty awesome wake up call; I hated being late.

Even if it was a self made schedule.

The plan was to get up at nine, get in a little morning smushin' session, then shower, pack, eat, and hopefully leave before noon.

Our flight left for Raleigh, North Carolina at 12:30.

And yes.

I said flight.

Sadly.

At my words, Punk's brows raised.

But he plopped down next to me and helped me.

Ok, so I was a cranky person in the morning.

Who isn't?

When we finished packing, Punk leaned over and kissed my cheek.

The small gesture instantly curing me of my sour attitude.

Now all we had to do was the million other things on my list.

And do it in less than two hours.

"Done, and with plenty of time to spare." he grinned. "How long did you think it would take us to pack."

"We still need to shower, eat, and actually get to the airport. All before noon." he glanced back at the bed side table and the clock that sat on it.

Then sighed.

"Yeah." I stood, pulling him up with me.

The two of us continued down my mental list of to-dos for the next hour or so.


	25. Don't Cry Baby, I'll Be Home Soon

By the time noon rolled around, we were just finishing up our breakfast-for-lunch.

The bags were by the door, we were freshly showered, and were even all sexy-ed out.

All we had to do was make it to the airport, that was a ten minute drive away, on time.

Punk and I loaded the bags into the back of Bec's Ford Taurus.

I could hear Rosie throwing a fit inside the house.

The poor girl wasn't allowed to go any where.

It wasn't a bad idea.

Newark was a dangerous place.

And really, where the hell would a two-year-old go?

She did, however, have a tendency of walking away from people and getting lost.

I left Punk outside, and went to see the little girl.

She reminded me so much of my sister, it almost hurt.

I couldn't understand how a child from my friend, could look so much like my dead sister, and act like my twin?

I hated leaving her.

I walked through the door, and her tear stricken face was pressed against the hard wood floor.

It was the classic baby-breakdown position.

I walked over to her, and poker her side with my foot.

"Quit crying." I said as she looked up at me, doing just that.

She stood and I picked her up.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and didn't let go.

"Babe, we got to go." Punk said as he came through the door from the cold outside.

Even at noon time it was still cold as shit.

At Punk's words, Rosie's grip tightened, but I pulled her from me.

She sat there, in my arms, scowling at me.

"I'll be back in a few weeks."

Her eyes started to well up again.

"Don't cry."

She took a deep breath, and calmed down.

"I have to go now. I want you to go and watch some Dora, and be good for mommy and daddy, alright?"

She nodded, still holding a scowl on her face.

Giving me another big squeeze, and a big kiss, my favorite baby let me put her down and walked into the living room to drown her sorrows in Mexican television.

I gave Jakie and hug and a kiss on the cheek, then Punk, Bec and myself, headed to the car.

–

"Is that kid always so intense?" Punk asked as we were sitting on the plane waiting to lift off.

Two things were chomping at my mind, leaving home, and the lapse in evolution that forced humans to be ground dwelling creatures.

I knew he was trying to get my mind off leaving my makeshift family.

"Ha, yeah. She's always been like that. And she's two!" I smiled remembering some of my favorite Rosie meltdowns.

But it wasn't like I was never going to see her again.

So I decided to change the subject.

"I was thinking of getting a new tattoo." I started, interest instantly peeked in Punk's face.

I smiled.

"Oh, do tell." His words made me realize one crucial fact.

I didn't want to tell him about my secret love.

"You're not allowed to laugh. Or even comment on it. You just hear it, then forget it. Ok?"

He cocked a brow, but nodded all the same.

I took in a deep breath, and revealed to him a secret love I'd had since I was a kid.

"It's a butterfly..." I started, gauging his initial reaction.

"Really?" he said, after the few second of shock wore off.

"Since when do you like butterflies?"

I shrugged.

"Since I was little. I just never told anyone, because I thought it was lame."

Sensing my embarrassment, Punk asked a different question.

"What does it look like?"

I whipped out the barf bag from next to me, and the pen from in my carry-on bag.

I drew out the design I had in mind.

It wasn't an actual butterfly like the whores around town would get.

It was more like a black outline of one.

"Where are you going to get it?"

I pondered for a moment.

That was one thing I hadn't decided yet.

"I'm not sure yet. Either my neck or my hand." I said, pointing to each place.

If it were on my neck, it would start just below my chin, and extend all the way to my collar bone.

If it were on my hand, it would go on the small chunk of skin around my thumb and forefinger.

"The next thing I have to figure out is when I'm going to get it, if I do."

"Why not get it today?"

I could understand the confusion on Punk's part.

He didn't know that I usually got my tattoos at the same place.

In Jersey.

"Well, all the others I have I got in Jersey. I kind of don't want to wait, but I don't want to break the tradition."

"How about this" Punk started after a few moments.

"Since I know how you feel about getting tattoos at home, how about we go together. Tonight. You get your butterfly,"

I could see him physically repress laughter.

I just glared as he finished.

"and I'll get something."

I pondered it for a moment.

It didn't sound half bad.

"Alright. That sounds good. Now all I have to do is decide if I'm getting it on my neck, or my hand."

"I think I can help with that." Punk said, leaning down to kiss my neck.

Well then.

I think I just decided.


	26. My Boot, Your Ass, They Should Meet

It was finally show time.

Friday night was my night.

Despite it being my original brand, it was the most exciting night of the week.

Everyone was out partying, and having fun with friends, and I got to add to the fun.

Unlike Mondays, no one had to wake up early to go to work or school.

Punk and I spent the last few moments before curtains up striding around the hallways.

Practically every one of them was full with WWE tech guys, and a camera or two.

I knew we were bound to run into Matt Striker or Josh Mathews eventually.

So when I saw Matt walking towards us, I resisted the initial instinct to turn tail and run away.

"Eli! You have a second?" he asked.

I sighed.

"Unfortunately."

"What can I do you for Matt?"

And at that, the camera was in my face and rolling live.

"Eli, everyone knows about the huge win you secured for Punk and yourself this past Sunday at Bragging Rights over Kaitlyn and Dolph. We heard some rumors that you sustained some pretty bad head injuries, is that true?"

I leaned down to speak directly into the microphone and looked up at Matt.

"No." I stated.

I hated talking to the press.

So I kept it short and sweet.

The silence that followed my answer was an awkward one.

"Can you tell us what the medic's said?" Matt prompted for me to elaborate.

I groaned.

"They thought I might have a concussion. That was pretty much it. But I don't. I'm fine."

"Are you at all concerned that Kaitlyn will try and interfere in your match tonight against AJ?" I smiled.

"While I'm out there, getting work done, and whooping AJ's ass. Kaitlyn can do anything she wants. I'm not concerned what-so-ever about her. I wasn't Sunday, and we all know how that one turned out..." I trailed off.

Matt shot me another question, a bit more personal.

"I know some of your fans out there must be wondering; what's with the new ink?"

I cocked a brow at him, prompting him to elaborate this time.

"I mean, what was the inspiration behind it. When did you get it. You know, that kind of stuff."

I took in a breath, and answered.

"Well Matt, I got it because I like it." I paused, gauging Matt's reaction.

More awkward silence.

"And I just got it today."

I smirked into the camera.

"Is that all? Because I got to start getting ready."

Matt shook his head and turned to interrogate yet another innocent soul.

And it was about time for me to suit up.

My match was first.

I left Punk moments later, but not without planting him with a huge, tongue filled kiss.

I met Kelly in the locker room after.

She sat in a black steal chair, dressed in a black glitter dress and black, stripper-like, boots.

Reminding me she wasn't schedule to fight tonight.

"I saw your interview with Matt." she started.

I laughed.

"How's your head?"

But my laughter turned to sighs.

"Kel. I'm fine. I had plenty of Jakie and Bec hounding me all week about it. And frankly, I'm more apt to get a concussion in bed with Punk than I am in the ring with Kaitlyn."

Kelly just shuttered in disgust as she imagined me and Punk rolling around in bed.

"That's disgusting."

She began, nodding her head.

"But I'm glad to know you're not hurt."

She paused.

"And since when do you like butterflies?"

I let out a bark of laughter.

"Since always. Some best friend you are!"

"Well I mean, you're such a tough guy on the outside. Butterflies are the last things I would think yo-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

Her tone when from lighthearted to complete and utter shock.

I finished lifting my shirt up over my head and looked down.

Then I saw it.

The innocent love bite Punk gave me this morning.

It turned out to be more bite then love.

And nowhere near innocent.

"Jeeze. That's just not right." I muttered to myself.

"Is that a hickey?" Kelly asked dumbly.

I smiled at her and nodded slowly, for her benefit.

"It looks more like a bruise! What the hell did he do? Have you for lunch?"

"Apparently so! I swear, it did not look that bad this morning."

As I poked and prodded at the purple blob, none other than Kaitlyn and AJ walk into the locker room.

Kaitlyn looked at me, then looked down to what my hands are toying with.

Then her face went from normal, to disgusted.

But she kept walking.

As she passed I faintly heard one of the two dweebettes mutter "Trashy".

It made me laugh.

"But Punk loves to do them. I can't seem to stop him when he's got his mind set on it." I said just a little too loud.

On purpose.

Kelly just gave me another disgusted look, and we continued getting dressed.

I pulled on my top, then my bottoms.

I sighed in defeat when it was just as I thought.

My shorts wouldn't cover the bite.

I laced my boots and left for the trainer, trying vainly to nonchalantly cover it.

"Eli, with your new tattoo, I doubt people will be looking at your stomach." Kelly reminded me as we made our way to the Gorilla after my short session with the trainer.

I'd even asked him if he knew a way to conceal the hickey.

But sadly, the only way is make up.

And that would come off real quick.

I guessed I'd be stuck with it for a bit.

But Kelly did have a point.

Since the new ink was already in the limelight for the night, the chances on them zooming in on my stomach were slim.

"Yeah, you're right." I decided once we'd finally made it to our destination.

"Ew! What is that?" Johnny asked pointing down at my stomach as he walked towards us.

I sighed.

"Shut up." Kelly yelled at him.

She also pulled him aside and delivered, what I hoped was, a few swift death threats if he said anything to anyone.

I smirked.

Looking around the Gorilla, my eyes settled on a disturbing sight.

My smirk quickly faded.

Kaitlyn, AJ, and Randy were all huddled in a corner talking quietly.

Then AJ's quick, upbeat music started, and her and Kaitlyn made their way out to the stage.

I turned to Kelly.

"You wanna be my wingman tonight?" she smiled.

"Hell yeah."

Then my music came on and the two of us set out for the ring.


	27. Us Against the World

'So far so good', was my train of thought during the match with AJ.

She was easier to take down than Kaitlyn, but it was catching her that was the problem.

I'd spent a good portion of my energy, chasing her around the ring.

Eventually, I gave that up and just waited for her to come to me.

Obviously, it worked.

I'd just pinned her, waiting for the final count, when her shoulder popped up.

Ok.

Now I was getting annoyed.

I turned to see Kelly, her head just below the bottom rope, and fully attentive to the match at hand.

Then, out of nowhere, Kaitlyn punched her in the face.

I took a step towards her, but was caught by AJ.

This was their plan all along.

While by best friend was getting beaten outside the ring, I was stuck inside to deal with a minor pest.

Thrown off guard for a moment, AJ got the better of me, and knocked me right on my ass.

It took a few seconds for the air to return to my lungs after the drop kick she just threw at me.

I was in the corner, barely able to stand, when another surprise hit me.

Or should I say, pulled me.

I felt big hands wrap around my ankles, and pull back with all their might.

Forcing me to fall forward, onto my face.

I could barely breath, let alone find which way was up.

The only reason I knew I fell on my face was because my face hurt after.

And when AJ covered me, I was barely able to kick out.

Since when was I such a loser?

I couldn't even beat AJ.

Who was probably on of the smallest, and worst Divas in the entire division.

After I managed back to my feet, and in a burst of adrenaline, I landed a solid hit on AJ, covered, and got the 1-2-3.

But that wasn't the worst part.

I rolled out of the ring, and immediately went to find Kelly.

She was curled up next to the barricade, in just as much pain as myself.

I reached my hand out to use the barricade as a crutch, and leaned down to see if Kelly was alright.

I was about to say something when I felt my hair rip out of my head, and my head slam back into the rubber floor.

I had to admit.

Rubber felt better than concrete.

But it still hurt like hell.

I was able to open my eyes just enough to see who dared touch me.

It was Kaitlyn.

I should have known.

And Randy?

That's what confused me.

What the hell was Randy doing out here.

But before I could ask, the two of them started in on me.

Kicking someone while they were down was both of their signatures.

As I was curled up in a ball, I could faintly hear the beginnings of someone's titiantron music.

Within seconds, the hits that hurt the most disappeared, and eventually they did all together.

The next thing I knew, I was staring into the hazel eyes of my Straightedge Savior.

CM Punk.

He helped me to my feet, and leaned me against the barricade as he helped up Kelly.

She was in better shape than myself, but still got a pretty intense beat down.

But at least she could stand up by herself.

As I shook the fuzz from my vision, and the haze from my mind, I witnessed Kaitlyn, AJ, and Randy retreat to the stage.

Kaitlyn had a mic in her hand, and an oddly satisfied smile on her face.

"Eli, I'd like to introduce to you my new tag team partner. Randy Orton."

That was all she said before the threesome disappeared behind the wall.

We were soon to follow.

My two arms were slung around both Kelly and Punk's shoulders, as they helped me backstage.

We were met by medics once we were out of the cameras view.

Punk placed me in a chair.

I gasped as my blazing skin touched the cool metal.

I couldn't see, but I could feel the body heat of the mass of medics crowding over me.

And in all that haze, I could hear only one thing.

"I'll be right back." being whispered in my ear.

Then the hand I clutched so tightly was gone.


	28. You're Worth Any Pain in the World

**Hey all! Sorry it's been so long! I've been busy with the holiday season that I didn't get to write as much as I wanted to! But have no fear! A bunch of new chapters are here! Aside from the four I just posted, I have at least three more on the way within the next week or so. So please be patient and remember! REVIEW!**

**Thanks a bunch.**

**With Love.**

**Skee.**

It'd been a good hour since I'd last seen Punk.

But my last memory of actually seeing him was when he came and got me from the ring.

And I wasn't even sure if that was really him.

I was laying down on a crappy medic table, the sequence of events after I'd beaten AJ were a little hazy.

I sat up, and turned to get off the table.

"I wouldn't"

My hand on my head came down to my lap, and my eyes landed on the chair across the room.

I held my breath as my mind came to the realization that it wasn't Punk; I sighed.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. How are you? You got a good beating out there too."

Kelly narrowed her eyes at me.

"No, no, no. _I'm_ fine. You, my friend, are not."

She stood from her seat, and came and sat down next to me.

"You got the crap beaten out of you in a match, then got ambushed after. I just got a few knocks on the head."

"But the important thing is that I won the match." I smiled.

I looked down at my body, it covered in the dark beginnings of bruises.

"At least I can tell everyone that the hickey is just another bruise!"

We laughed in the lightened mood.

"Where's Punk?"

At my question, Kelly's face went from lighthearted to business serious.

"He's been in Teddy's office ever since we came back from the ring."

I furrowed my brows, insinuating I wanted to know more.

"Teddy was pretty mad at him. He wasn't supposed to go out and get us. Then what he did after just made things worse." she trailed on.

"What happened?"

Kelly was horrible at keeping secrets.

So getting the goods from her was easy as pie.

"He went and jumped Randy. Actually, I'm surprised he's not in here too with the beating Punk gave him."

I smiled.

"Why are you smiling? Punk got in trouble and could possibly get suspended."

"Randy got the crap beaten out of him. That's why."

Then it hit me.

"Wait, was Randy the one who attacked me?"

She nodded.

Then it started to come back.

That's right.

I remembered Randy and Kaitlyn kicking the crap out of me after the match.

"What the fuck?"

I'd just gone from worried, to giddy, then to pissed off in a matter of seconds.

At that I plopped my feet on the hard concrete floor, and stormed towards the door.

"Eli, where are you going?" Kelly yelled from behind me.

And really, I had no idea.

On one hand, I wanted to go find Randy and beat the crap out of him, and on the other I wanted to find Punk.

And make sweet love to him.

He'd gone against the boss man, which was nothing new, and Randy, to rescue me.

As I marched my way down the hallway, trying to find where Teddy's office was, I ran into two geeks I would have rather not have seen for the rest of my life.

AJ and Kaitlyn slithered out from around a corner, and stopped me dead in my tracks.

Thank god Kelly was the type not to let me go off by myself, and was hot on my heals.

"What the hell do you two want?" I groaned.

Kelly bumped my shoulder.

Ok, so I'd just gotten my ass handed to me by these two.

Why did I have to taunt them?

"We were just wondering where you were headed in such a rush?"

Kaitlyn and AJ exchanged looks.

I looked at AJ's face, it holding a nervous look, rather than the cool confidence that Kaitlyn had.

It seemed to me that the dweebs from Dorkville weren't on the same page like everyone would seem.

Now that I thought about it.

AJ was nowhere to be found when Kelly and I were getting the beat down from hell.

"Hey, Kel. Where did you say Punk was again?" I asked, turning towards her, wearing a sarcastic look on my face.

"In Teddy's office."

"Then that's where I'm going."

I turned back to the twosome.

"I would invite you, but I doubt you want to watch what I'm going to be doing to him."

I shrugged, and pushed them aside, dragging Kelly behind me.

I resisted to turn back and look the faces of the mental images I left them with.

"So if you're going off to indulge yourself in some nasty pedo sex, why am I coming with you?"

I let out a bark of laughter at the running joke Johnny and Kelly had about Punk.

"What makes you think you're coming with me? I was just bringing you here so I didn't have to worry about you following me around."

I smirked as she realized where we had ended up.

It was just the viewing room, but it was filled to the brim in fresh superstar meat.

AKA the new NXT rookies.

We exchanged short glances, and Kelly smirked.

"You know me so well."

I kissed her cheek and left her to her games.

As I was turning from the doorway, I saw the greatest thing.

Punk walking down the hallway, with his head down, like a little school boy after a scolding from the Principal.

"Hey!" I yelled, taking off running towards him.

As I got closer, his eyes lifted, then shut.

I jumped up, and few into his arms.

I buried my face in his shoulder as Punk took a few stumbles back.

His hands came around the undersides of my thighs.

I heard his voice in my ear again today.

"Was that really a good idea?" he asked.

It took a second to realize what the hell he was talking about.

But when I tried to lift my head to look at him, everything just slammed into me like a truck.

"Not really." I muttered, fighting through the pounding headache, and the rest of the body aches, that was coming on.

My arms were wrapped tightly around Punk's neck as he lowered my legs so my feet touched the ground.

I was surprised that I reached seeing as I'm almost a foot shorter than him.

"Are you going to let go?" he asked with a tinge of humor in his voice.

I shook my head.

He just laughed and took a step back.

My grip tightened around his neck, and my body went limp against his.

Now the only thing keeping me up was my arms wrapped around his neck.

"Really?"

"Really, Miz." I said, reminding him that the Miz was infamous for saying 'Really'.

"I did tell you that I wasn't going to let go. The last time I did that, I didn't see you for over an hour!"

I reminded him loudly, but my voice was muffled in his neck.

I heard him sigh, and bring his arms around me, pulling me back towards him.

"About that. I kind of got in some trouble."

"What's new?" he laughed at that.

It was true.

He was always in some kind of trouble with management.

So today it wasn't anything new.

"I punched Randy in the face. Multiple times."

He sounded as if he was going to get in more trouble, and by me, of all people!

But frankly, the only reason he would be in trouble would be because he didn't do it in front of me.

"I know." I smiled, turning my head to kiss his neck.

"Kelly told me. I was actually on my way to find you and jump you for being so great."

I tried to lift my head from his shoulder, to kiss him.

But I was instantly denied when the light touched my pupils.

I groaned as my head almost exploded in pain.


	29. That Train Wreck Has Nothing On Me

Punk and I had eventually made it back towards the medic's office, and I didn't have to open my eyes once.

He guided me back through the maze of halls, but not without making me walk into a wall or two.

"I bet you think you're funny, huh?" I asked him from behind closed lids.

The medic had just given me a truck load of aspirin, so my headache hadn't gone away just yet.

"You would have done the exact same thing!"

It was true.

I would.

"So, Eli. How's your head doing?"

I heard from across the room.

I cracked one eye open, and saw Smackdown General Manager Teddy Long standing in the doorway.

"Peachy. Just got a little headache though." I smiled, I knew why he was here.

"Well that's good." he started then got down to business.

He was pretty much making an executive visit, reminding me to show up for testing in the next few days so I can be cleared for ring action.

"Sure. But hey. Can I go? My head is literally, splitting in half."

"Yeah. You're set to go." he paused.

"And I trust that Punk can get you to your hotel alright?"

"Yeah, I think I can manage that." Punk said, smiling at me.

"Alright then Playa. Take it easy you two."

and at that, he turned and left us.

"Sweet. All I want to do is take a hot shower. Then go to bed." I said, starting to feel the aspirin kick in.

I shifted my hand from covering my eyes, it hurting slightly less than before to look into the light.

I stood and started towards the womens' locker room, dragging Punk behind me.

"I just have to change and we can leave."

He nodded, and waited patiently for me outside the door.

I spent the next fifteen minutes carefully pulling off my ring gear, and stripping down to practically nothing.

So I sat there, on the cold metal chair, in only my underwear, for almost five minutes.

I hurt so damn bad already.

I could barely lift my limbs, it was that bad.

I was grateful that Teddy let Punk come with me.

I doubt I could have made it back to the hotel without him.

"Are you almost done in there?"

I heard Punk ask through a crack in the door.

"Why are you naked?"

He seemed almost shocked that I had practically no clothes on.

"I was taking a break." I sighed, digging into my duffel bag to get my Jersey sweatpants.

I slowly pulled on each leg, not wanting to stress out any of my already tense muscles.

I got them up to my tights, then stopped to put on my shirt.

I didn't want to stand up to only have to bend back down and put on my shirt and shoes.

That just screamed future headache.

I grabbed the baggy, black, Gold's Gym shirt, that I had stolen from Punk, and was about to slip it on.

But first I needed to unwrap my shoulder.

I reached my right hand across my battered chest, and picked at the end piece of tape.

"You want some help?" Punk asked, seeing frustration grow on my face.

I nodded.

"Are you really hurting that much?" I nodded again.

After a few more moments, my arm was free, and I could put on the shirt.

"Goddammit." I cursed.

I couldn't even lean down long enough to put a shoe on, let alone tie it, before I got dizzy.

But before I could further upset myself, Punk knelt down next to me, and put my feet in my shoes and tied them.

As much as I appreciated it, I was so pissed off that I couldn't even tell him thank you.

I couldn't even get dressed without help.

I was helpless.

I was in so much pain that I couldn't function.

And I was going to get sweet revenge.

Even if it killed me.

As I mused my devilish thoughts, Punk packed up my ring gear, and slung it over his shoulder.

"You ready?" he asked, snapping me from my scheming.

"Oh, yeah." I replied, standing up slowly.

I pulled up my pants, and slipped on my jacket, then Punk's arm came to rest over my shoulders.

"Hey, when did you change?" I asked, stumped at why he was still in street clothes.

"I didn't change at all. I've been wearing this all night."

I looked again at him, he wore a pair of blue jeans, black t-shirt, his own black jacket, and that damned blue hat he wore all the time.

Despite his worried face, he looked the same as earlier.

"Wow. For some weird reason, I thought you changed."

I blinked a few times, remembering bits and pieces from the aftermath of my match with AJ.

It was true.

He didn't change.

He'd come charging down to the ring, dressed in what he wore now.

And his hair wasn't even slicked back.

I doubt anyone even realized it was him until after someone said something.


	30. Damn Crimmus

**Hey guys! It's the thirty mark! Woo! But now don't fret, I'm not nearly done yet. So remember. Review. And Have fun. **

**With love.**

**Skee.**

_Notice: Since this Friday is the holiday special of Smackdown, everyone is required to dress appropriately. That means no jeans and t-shirts. And no ring gear until the designated time. Thank you, Smackdown General Manager, Teddy Long._

I cringed as I read the long ass text message that Teddy had sent to every Smackdown superstar.

I hated dressing up. It was pointless.

All I ever wanted to do, and ever will do, is kick ass.

And I can't do that in four inch heels and and mini dress that barely covers my ass.

Then I read the end note.

_P.s if anyone does not abide by this, they will be suspended immediately until the following week. _

I sighed knowing I had to dress up.

Dammit.

I reluctantly pealed myself off of the plush bedding of the North Carolina hotel.

It was too damn bad we'd only be here until later this afternoon.

It was a pretty nice place.

"Hey." I started, shaking a sleeping Punk on the bed next to me.

After a moment or two, his eyes started to open.

"Hey, I got to go out. Teddy sent out a mass text and I need a new wardrobe."

He blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"I'll go with you."

"No need. I got Kelly." I smirked, knowing that I was in for an afternoon of shopping hell.

"Plus. It's just going to be girls going giddy over shoes."

He cringed at the thought.

I laughed.

"But, I'll see you later." I kissed his cheek, and started to slip from the bed.

"I hope you'll get dressed before you go." he trailed on.

"As much as I love the view, I doubt others will."

I turned back and stuck out my tongue.

Sure I was naked.

Why the hell would I have clothes on with Punk in the same bed?

In a matter of moments I was fully dressed.

"Are those actually pants?" Punk asked.

I looked down at the dark blue colored material.

They did look remarkably like denim.

"Nope. It's spandex."

I heard him make an "ah" sound from behind me as I slipped on my winter boots.

The faux fur was an instant warmth against my stockinged feet.

"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough in that jacket?" Punk asked as I pulled on my black leather jacket over my shirt.

I hadn't looked to see what shirt I'd ended up putting on.

I peaked down at the black cotton, it reading in an obnoxious green font, 'you will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.'

I laughed on the inside.

I looked at Punk, then down at the couch were I spotted his favorite gray sweatshirt.

"Huh. You're right. I should have a sweatshirt too."

I snatched his up, and slipped in on.

"I didn't mean mine! What am I supposed to wear?"

I just shrugged and pulled on my leather jacket.

"You can wear mine." I smiled, and made my way towards Punk.

He was propped up on his elbows, with a dangerous smirk on his lips.

"Although I'd prefer you to stay like this until I came back..." I muttered as I lifted a leg to straddle his hips.

My hands came to cup his face, and my lips met his softly.

A few times actually.

I was seconds away from ditching Kelly, and the clothes, to play doctor with Punk in this heaven like bed.

But my hopes and dreams were crushed by the ringing of my phone.

Punk gave me a horrified look.

"Why?" he asked referring to my new ringtone.

Dubstep.

"Why can't you listen to _good _music?"

I pouted and answered it.

"What are you doing?" I heard Kelly ask from the other end.

"Torturing Punk with techno. Don't worry. I'm on my way out."

I smirked down at Punk, he stuck out his tongue at me when I mentioned his name.

"Hurry up."

And at that our conversation ended and I was back focused on Punk.

"Ok, I gotta go. Kelly's going all Nazi on me."

We both laughed for a moment.

I leaned down and kissed him once more.

"I'll text you."

And with that I was off to spend the afternoon with Kelly.

Good grief.


	31. Our Comic Love

"Oh come on! Tell me!" Punk pleaded for the millionth time since lift off in Raleigh over an hour ago.

Yet again, I did say 'lift off'.

Sadly.

"No! It's a surprise! End of subject!"

"Seriously? You won't tell me what you bought today, but you'll tell everyone else?" I looked at him.

"Yup. That sounds about right."

I heard him groan from next to me.

"Why must you torture me baby?"

His words were sickly sweet, and designed to break me.

His fingers traced faintly along the week old ink on my neck, while his lips pressed against my own.

We were headed to Chicago for Raw this week.

And I could literally feel the excitement rolling off of Punk.

"Because it's fun." I paused, giving him false hope.

"And you're just going to have to wait until Friday to find out."

He let out an exaggerated groan, and turned back towards

"The Captain would like to remind all passengers that cellular devices should be turned off immediately. Thank you." a voice over the intercom interrupted me.

Yet another reason not to like planes.

You can't talk on the phone.

I took out mine, and just as I was turning it off.

I got a text message.

It was from Teddy Long.

_Eli, I'm loaning you out tonight on Raw. Don't be late._

I sighed and shut off my phone.

"I guess I'm working tonight." I muttered.

It was funny.

Because only yesterday was I cleared for in-ring action and already Teddy was loaning me out at the last second.

"And I was so looking forward to relaxing tonight." I complained to Punk.

He just laughed.

"There's no such thing as relaxation when you're at a show." he was right.

It was always drama, drama, drama.

And I had the feeling that tonight was going to be filled with it.

It was a few moments later, Punk bumped my arm and pulled me from my grumbling.

He leaned over me to look out the window, ushering me to look too.

Exposed to my eyes, was the beautiful city of Chicago.

It's buildings so massive, it was as if I could reach out and touch them from my seat.

My entire home town of Newark could fit inside one of them!

Sure I'd been here before.

But I never really took the time to look out the plane window and see the city from a birds' eye view.

"That's my Gotham." he smirked.

I looked at him, and held my dumbstruck look.

"No no no no no no. Batman confuses you on a regular basis. You cannot have a 'Gotham'."

After I shot down his dreams, I turned and sat back in my seat.

"If you want a Gotham, look at Newark."

And thus ensued the argument of Chicago vs. Newark for the Gotham title.


	32. Trouble In Paradise?

**Hey again all! I just wanted to wish you all a Happy 2012. And as I gift, I give you a twist. **

**Remember. **

**Review. And enjoy.**

**With Love, **

**Skee.**

"Seriously, AJ. I'm sick of you. You're always getting in my way! I mean what the hell was that on Friday? You knew that was the plan the whole time! You're such a fucking baby."

I heard Kaitlyn's voice from down the hall.

Apparently there was a whole group of Divas surrounding the twosome.

I was just minding my own business, heading out towards the Gorilla to wait for my match to start.

And BAM!

I fall smack dab in the middle of Drama City.

"Kaitlyn, I'm sorry! All I was trying to say was that I doubt Punk would be interested in you anymore since you attacked his girlfriend." AJ's voice was harder to hear.

Obviously she did not wear the pants in that relationship.

As I got closer, I found Kelly with Alicia and Eve.

"What's going on?" I asked hushly.

Kelly just looked at me, wide eyed.

Then suddenly, I heard a slap.

I looked up and saw AJ holding her face, on the verge of tears.

"Like I said, a fucking baby."

"What the fuck was that?"

I couldn't stop the words from coming out of my lips.

The outburst earned me some queer looks from the small group.

I wasn't usually the one standing up for others.

But bullies pissed me the hell off.

Kaitlyn turned to face me, a scowl on her face.

But before anything could further guarantee a future beat down from Kaitlyn, she huffed and walked away.

She disappeared around a hallway corner, and my attention refocused to the petite Diva before me.

AJ stared up at me with admiration in her eyes.

"Oh my god Eli! That was great! I could never stand up the Kaitlyn like that! Thank you!"

She out stretched her arms and wrapped them around my waist.

It happened so fast that I couldn't stop it.

I was locked in a girly, touchy-feely, hug.

I instantly looked to Kelly who was in just about as much shock as I was.

Eventually, she returned to arms length, and I quickly escaped any changes of being caught again.

"Hey, since I was friends with Kaitlyn and am now kind of a social pariah, can I hang out with you guys?"

I groaned.

Very loudly.

And very obnoxiously.

Kelly elbowed me.

"Sure. Oh, and don't mind Eli, she just doesn't like new people."

I was about to object to the notion that I don't like new people.

I just didn't care of AJ that much.

But before I could form the words, what felt like a brick wall, slammed into me.

A tall, hot body, pressed into mine, against the cool concrete wall.

I could feel the thick scruff of his face scrape my neck, and up to my lips.

Our naked thighs pressed together as he grounded his hips hard into mine.

He let out a barely audible, but still very clear to me, groan.

"Punk, I'm still not telling you."

"Dammit Eli! Tell me! You know I hate surprises!"

He stomped his foot on the floor like a child not getting his way.

I laughed and turned back towards a horrified AJ and disgusted Kelly.

"Oh, AJ. Did you get to see the picture? Eli looks absolutely darling!"

Kelly turned to the stunned still girl, and pulled out her phone.

After a few button presses, AJ took in a breath.

"Eli, that is so cute!"

She barely got the words out of her mouth, and Punk was grabbing for the phone.

But Kelly quickly moved it away, and Punk was snatching nothing but air.

"You, lover boy, are just going to have to wait until Friday."

I smirked and grabbed his shirt, tugging his forward.

"Now, come with me so we can wait for my match to begin."

His shoulders slumped forwards, and he wore a pout on his lips, but he eagerly followed.

–

"Eli, Natalya! You guys are up next!" the tech guy in charge of the sound board yelled.

I'd just finished my stretching when I spotted Natalya, she was standing against the wall talking to Beth and Tyson.

Her best friend and her former teammate.

I gave her a friendly smile, and she returned one to me almost immediately.

I watched her give her goodbyes to the two she stood with, and stand in front of the stage entrance steps.

Her music, which I've always liked, came on and the crowd awakened with cheers.

"Have fun." Punk said, kissing my lips.

I smiled.

"I always do." and made my way towards where Natalya had just disappeared from.

"Easy come, easy go, easy girls...rock n' roll!"

Then an eruption of guitar, drums, and the WWE Universe filled my ears.

–

I'd forgotten what it was like to go up against Natalya.

It'd been that long.

And I have to admit, I'd also forgotten that she was trained in the Hart Dungeon.

But the key to winning against anyone of the Harts was not letting them lock in the Sharpshooter.

Easier said than done.

Even knowing that, I'd almost fallen victim to it at least twice.

I was moments away from laying in my patented roundhouse kick, the Jersey Jaw Dropper, and winning the match.

When something cold came into contact with my back.

Instantly, I plummeted to the canvas, shaking in pain.

I could hear the bell ring faintly in the background.

I should have seen this next part coming.

I opened my eyes to see Kaitlyn closing in on me.

I scooted away from her, trying to get the distance so I could kick her on her ass.

But I was stopped by a pair of strong hands.

This part was an utter shock to me.

Natalya grabbed me by the hair, flipped me over, and locked me in the Sharpshooter.

Sure, I'd been forced to tap out because of it before, but that was all business.

I'd considered Natalya a friend.

So the back breaking technique being used on me now was an unpleasant surprise.

Thank god it stopped suddenly.

When I could finally open my eyes, I saw Natalya and Kaitlyn, putting the beat down on Kelly and AJ.

Why AJ was out here, I had no clue.

But I knew one thing.

We'd been betrayed.

I jumped back into the ring, and foolishly lunged at them both.

Two of the biggest, and strongest Divas in the business.

Like I said, foolish.

But they didn't waste much time on me.

Once I was back on my ass, Natalya grabbed a microphone and started talking.

"Eli, Eli, Eli. I'm disappointed in you."

She knelt down in front of me.

"You're a smart girl. I thought you would have been able to figure it out by now."

I gave her a pissed, but still very confused look.

"I'm the one who took out you're dear friend Kelly the other week. But obviously, not with out some help."

She stood and started laughing.

Kaitlyn joined in.

Then music started.

And Beth Phoenix appeared on stage with a mic in hand.

"That's right Nat. And we're going to keep at it, until all you Barbie dolls are gone!"

"We're back. And Pin Up Strong isn't going anywhere!"


	33. You Know How To Pull Me Back

Goddammit.

Why was it that the past two shows I'd left the arena with a splitting headache?

I couldn't even thoroughly enjoy the first time I saw Punk's apartment.

It'd been several hours since the conclusion of Raw and I was sitting up, leaning against the head board of Punk's bed, staring off into the darkness.

What was Kaitlyn's game?

From what AJ had told us, she knew Natalya had attacked Kelly, but didn't know the plan was to bring back the Divas of Doom.

She also told us, that Kaitlyn was still pushing for Punk, so I couldn't let my guard down just yet.

I felt Punk stir next to me.

My hand came down on his soft brown locks, smoothing the strays away from his face.

I wouldn't let her get in my head.

Then suddenly the light came on.

"Why are you awake? Did your headache come back?" Punk asked his voice rough from sleep.

He sat cross legged in front of me a moment later, concern written all over his sleep deprived face.

He'd been doing a lot of tossing and turning the past couple of days, which worried me.

"It's nothing. Let's go back to sleep." I said scooting back under the blanket and resting my head on the pillow.

But Punk didn't move.

"Something tells me you haven't even tried."

His brows were furrowed, and his hazel eyes seeing right through my lie.

"Eli, what's wrong?"

I sighed and sat back up.

"I don't know. I just feel a little uneasy. Like, I can't figure out what Kaitlyn's game is! Why did she reunite the Divas of Doom? Why did she team up with Randy? Why did she have Randy attack me? Why did Randy attack me?"

I took in a shaky breath and my hands came up to my face.

"I just can't figure it out!"

I took in another breath and let my hands fall into my lap.

None of it made since to me.

I could feel it all start to boil to the surface.

It was getting harder and harder to repress the stress I was under.

But like a cool summer breeze, Punk's hands came around mine, and blew the thoughts that plagued me, from my mind.

"You will. I promise."

I gave him a not convinced look.

"And do you know how I know you'll do it?"

I shook my head.

"Because I have faith in you. You tell everyone everyday that you're the greatest, and I truly believe that. And I truly believe you'll kick every single one of their asses in no time at all."

I smiled at him.

Those words from anyone else would have gone in one ear and out the other, but from Punk it meant the world.

Sensing my lifted mood, be continued.

"Plus, no body puts my baby in the corner."

I let out a bark of laughter and cocked a brow at his shit-eating grin.

"I thought you said you'd 'never watch that movie. Not even in a million years'?"

He just shrugged.

"I may have stumbled upon it when I was flipping through channels while you were shopping this morning."

He released my hands, and started to lean towards me.

Our lips met and all thoughts of Kaitlyn, in the forefront and background, disappeared from my mind.

"Hm. Maybe I should leave you to your own devices more often?"

I laid back on the bed, Punk's body over mine.

"Please don't."

I smirked, entangling my fingers into his hair.

His own hands were tugging at my waist band, too eager for their own good.

"I think I can arrange that."

I lifted my mouth to his.

My eyes closed, and the swell of emotion I felt for this man blazed through my entire body.


	34. You Ain't Afraid of What!

"Eli, get dressed. We're going out." Punk yelled from the kitchen not ten feet from the bedroom door.

I groaned.

We'd been here for two days already, and I was enjoying every second of it.

Aside from the random visits from his long time friend Colt Cabana, Punk and I were alone 95% of the time.

It was awesome.

I'd been laying in his bed for almost fifteen minutes now, and refused to move.

I wanted him to come get me.

So I could drag him back under the blankets and do some naughty things to him.

But no.

I retched myself up and reluctantly pulled on a random t-shirt of Punk's that I thought might go past my ass.

Almost.

But it wasn't quiet long enough.

I was too damn lazy to change it, so I just pulled on a fresh pair of undies and opened the bedroom door.

I stared straight ahead, not quiet sure what I was looking at.

Then it clicked.

"Huh. I guess it was a good thing I put some clothes on then." I muttered and walked to the kitchen where Punk was making gravel.

Uh. I meant breakfast.

"Yeah, because it was such an inconvenience."

"Actually, Colt. It was!"

I turned around to shoot him a sarcastic smirk.

"Oh good. You're not actually cooking!"

I breathed a sigh of relief and smacked Punk on the ass.

"No smart ass. Colt brought over some frozen breakfast sandwiches." Punk said matter-of-factly.

I made some sarcastic remarks like, 'oh Colt must feel so special' and turned to sit at the table.

"Nice Eli. Batman?" Punk said, motioning to my ass.

I turned my head back to try and catch a glimpse of the backside of my underwear.

"Huh. I guess so." I muttered and sat down.

"You like it." I smirked at Punk.

He smirked back.

Oh yeah he liked it.

"Ok, so I'm going to go jump off of a bridge now..."

I heard Colt trail off from behind me.

But I just ignored him.

The microwave went beep, and Punk pulled out a steaming pile of breakfast sandwich and brought it over to me.

He placed the plate in front of me, and leaned down towards my face.

"Good morning." he muttered against my lips.

I pulled him down by his shirt to kiss him again.

"Good indeed." I muttered back, releasing his shirt.

"So Colt. What brings you to Punk's humble abode today?" I asked, starting to stuff the sandwich in my mouth.

"Well, I just came by to-"

I cut him off with a small scream.

"What the fuck?"

"I'm sorry, Asshole. It was hot!" I grumbled, taking a sip of the cold milk Punk at placed next to me.

"But please, continue with your lame story."

And so he did.

"Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I stopped by to see if you guys wanted to hang out today, but Punk said you already had plans. And thank you. Thank you for stealing my best friend."

I smirked and raised my hand.

"You're welcome."

I then took a bite of the now cooled off sandwich.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you." I said though a mouth full of muffin, egg, cheese, and Canadian bacon.

Damn those Canadians and their bacon lies.

I heard both of the guys laugh, then say their goodbyes.

In seconds the muffin sandwich was gone, and Punk and I were alone once again.

–

"So let me get this straight,"

I paused gathering my thoughts.

"Since I won't tell you what I'm wearing to Smackdown, you won't tell me where we're going. That about sum it up?" I asked, turning my head towards Punk.

We were in his car, and headed somewhere mysterious.

He nodded.

"How is that the least bit fair?"

As we stopped at one of Chicago's many traffic lights, Punk shot me a questionable look.

"Can you at least tell me how much longer? We've been in the car for like an hour!"

"Eli, it's been barely ten minutes! Wow, you are impatient!" he laughed.

I just stuck out my tongue.

"But seriously, how much longer?" I grumbled.

"We'll be there in like ten minutes. Calm down."

And at that Punk continued driving and the car ride went by relatively quiet.

That is until the radio station that we were listening to played our jam.

"Oh god no."

Ok.

So it was my jam.

I instantly turned up the volume as high as I could stand it, then turned to Punk.

"If there's something strange in your neighborhood, who you gunna call?"

I sang into my fist, pretending it was a microphone.

I shifted it towards Punk to have him finish the line.

He didn't.

"If there's something weird and it don't look good, who you gunna call?"

And again I shifted my fist towards Punk.

And again nothing.

"I ain't afraid of no ghosts!"

"Jeeze. This is going to be a long day."

I heard him mutter, but I kept on singing my tone deaf rendition of the Ghostbusters theme.


	35. But We're Stuck Good

"Why must you poop all over my party?" I whined.

After my horrible sing-a-long to Ghostbusters, Punk had turned off the radio.

"Hey, can you look to see if my ears are still bleeding?" he smirked, still looking at the road.

"You like that song..." I reminded him.

"Yes, and I like you. But that doesn't mean I like you both together."

We'd finally parked outside of a cute little blue house with a white front porch.

"Ok, seriously, I need answers." I said motioning to the house we sat in front of.

"It's my parents house." he admitted sheepishly, gauging my reaction.

"Ok, I would have loved to know that earlier so I could wear something a little less street bum, and a little more 'hey I'm your son's girlfriend'!" I muttered sarcastically.

Punk laughed.

"You look fine. They're not going to care. My sister wears the same stuff."

He said motioning to my fur boots, ripped jeans and blank t-shirt under my leather jacket.

"Come on, it's getting cold out here."

He opened his door and a waft of winter air smacked me in the face.

I took a deep breath, and opened my own door.

Instantly, I shoved my freezing fingers into my pockets.

Punk just slung his arm over my shoulders.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked as we walked up the snowy stone walkway.

Punk sighed, knowing what I meant.

He didn't have exactly the greatest relationship with his parents, or the rest of his family for that matter.

The only person he actually spoke to on a regular basis, and got along with, was his sister, Shalene.

"I promised Shalene that I'd stop by with you for a little bit." he paused.

"Plus, now you get to see how I grew up."

He smiled and kissed the top of my head as we took the three steps onto the porch.

After a few moments, his sister, Shalene, came to the door.

"Hey! You finally made it!" she squeaked, extending her arms.

I looked at the petite young lady, who was almost the same age as me.

She was wearing a very pretty floral skirt, and a matching plain colored shirt.

Same thing my ass.

Once she let Punk go, she turned to me.

"You must be Eli! Come on in!" she ushered us inside.

Once the door was closed I dared to pull my fingers from my jeans pockets.

"Hey, are these still cold?" I asked Punk lifting up his t-shirt, and pressing my freezing digits to his stomach.

He squealed like a piglet and jumped away from me.

"Fuck yeah they're still cold!" he yelled.

I smirked and stepped towards him.

"No! Get away from me! Stop it!" he continued to yell, earning us the attention of his sister who had left us to tell his parents we were here.

She just stood there, in the door way that went to the kitchen, with furrowed brows and a curious look on her face.

"What the hell are yo- actually."

She put her hand up, then continued.

"You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know."

I laughed out loud and she just walked back into the kitchen.

–

The rest of the visit went just as easily.

Despite how ridiculously difficult Punk's father was.

And no.

I don't mean dad.

I mean father.

Like, I'll-Beat-You-With-My-Belt-For-Stepping-Out-of-Line kind of father.

And the worst part; he didn't even acknowledge his own son.

After that hilariously awkward moment with Shalene, Punk and I had followed her into the kitchen.

Their mother was there, making some warm chicken soup for lunch, and playing the whole doting, stay at home mom very well.

Almost as good as my mom.

She sat us all down, and served us the soup, it being rather delicious.

I mean, how can she make such great food, and her son can barely make Mac n' Cheese?

It didn't make any since.

But in all seriousness.

I was expecting our quiet little lunch to be a little more lively.

Practically no one spoke.

And it was horrendous.

The only time anyone spoke was when Punk's mother asked us the basic, and hilariously embarrassing, relationship stories.

But like in press interviews, I kept them short and sweet.

Ok.

So maybe the awkward lunch wasn't completely just their faults.

After the pleasant lunch, Punk and I ended up in his childhood bedroom.

Which, unsurprisingly, exactly how I imagined it.

For starters, it was the attic.

Which immediately made me jealous.

"Psh. Lucky bastard." I muttered.

Punk cocked a brow at me.

"I've always wanted an attic bedroom."

He just laughed at me, and extended his arm through the small hole in the ceiling.

I climbed the dinky steps with ease, his hand helped pull me the rest of the way through.

I planted both feet firmly on what felt like rickety old floor boards, and took a good solid look around me.

Then giggled.

"What's so funny?"

But I couldn't stop the giggle fit.

I mean seriously.

This room looked like it was stuck in the 1980's.

And stuck bad.

"Hey Punk, the 80's called. They want their shit back!" I cracked, and exploded in full blown laughter.

"Hey! I didn't make fun of your room!" he tried, and failed, to defend his childhood.

I just smirked and jumped up to sit on the wooden desk that was stuffed away in a corner.

I doubt he even used it, especially for school.

"That's because you actually liked my room. No matter what you say."

"Oh yeah, because I totally enjoyed the purple wall paint and the Backstreet Boys posters." I nodded.

"I know you did."

He just laughed and walked towards me.

Both his hands rested on either side of me, his arms entrapping me between himself and the desk.

"I feel like this was your plan all along." I muttered against his lips.

"Oh really? Please, tell me what it could be?" he muttered back, taunting my lips with his.

"Isn't it obvious? You lured me up to your old bedroom, expecting me to make fun of it."

I paused, Punk just smiled, nodding all the while.

"Then, when I was trapped, you planned to have your way with me."

He smiled wider.

"Damn. You caught me." his lips lightly touched mine.

My fingers were lightly tickling their way up Punk's sleeved arms, and gripped his shirt gently, keeping his lips within my reach.

I was about to say something else, when a voice sounded from below deck.

"Hey, Punk. I'm leaving. Come say goodbye."

It was Shalene.

Instantly Punk's face went sour.

Apparently, he hadn't planned on being here without his sister.

"No your not!" he yelled, leaving me at the desk to go complain to her.

I smiled.

The whole thing reminding me of my childhood.

"You are not leaving me here alone with them!" he whispered through the thresh hold in the floor.

The two spent the next two or three minutes bickering, before I said something.

"It's ok, we can stay longer."

Punk flashed me a face that seemed to think I was crazy.

I'd walked the few feet towards the floor door, and put my hand around his waist.

I flashed a big smile, then said.

"You should spend time with your parents, you never know when you'll see them again."

Instantly, Punk realized I'd just won that fight.

I repressed laughter.

Because of his face, not because of the thought of him not seeing his parents again.

"Come on." I prompted him down the ladder to the main house.

I followed, and accepted Punk's gracious help along the way.


	36. Mama, Look At Me Now

"I swear, my hand was only on her ass to try steady her! You know me Shalene!"

His sister shot him a skeptical look with her dark brown eyes.

"That's what worries me." she muttered under her breath.

"Oh, Shalene. Are you leaving?"

We all turned around from the front door to see their mother staring at all of us, looking sad already.

"Yeah, mom. I'll be back again next weekend." she paused, putting on her scarf.

"Oh, Punk said, he and Eli could stay longer."

At the words, her eyes brightened.

There was no turning back now.

After that, we all said goodbye to Shalene.

Her and Punk's relationship made me laugh.

It was like she was the older sister, not the baby.

"Oh, come on. It won't kill you to stay another hour or so." I whispered to a grumpy Punk.

He sighed.

"I know. But without Shalene, it'll be total silence."

And boy, he wasn't wrong.

We did stay another hour, or so.

Sitting in the family room with his parents.

Papa Brooks was stoic as ever, and Mama was trying just as hard to keep an actual conversation flowing.

"So Eli, what did you do before the WWE?"

I sighed.

I wished she would try to talk to her son and not me.

It wasn't only the press I hated talking to.

It was most people in general.

But my one word answers weren't helping the awkward silence either.

"I went to school."

Her brows raised a little.

Another question.

Great.

"Oh really? What was your major?"

What?

I paused.

Houston. We have a problem.

How old did they think I was?

I thought very carefully about the next few things I said.

"No. Actually I meant High School..." I admitted sheepishly.

Punk tried, vainly, to not laugh at the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

I mean come on.

If it was him, I'd be on the verge of a massive giggle fit too.

His old man was sitting in the room's lone recliner, staring away at the Cubs game on the tube.

It was a surprise that Punk wasn't glued as well.

Oh right.

He was too busy laughing at me.

"How old are you?" Punk's mother asked, casting aside all the proper etiquette she had stuck to earlier.

"Twenty-six."

At my words, her brows raised.

Even Tall-Old-and-Grumpy raised a brow.

Then again.

The Cubs did just get a base hit.

The whole thing was just awkward as hell.

"Huh, I wouldn't have guessed. Only because you're such an accomplished wrestler. You would think you'd be pushing thirty!"

What accomplished career?

I'd only been Diva's champ four times.

I just liked picking fights.

Obviously, I didn't say that, so I just smiled sheepishly at her desperate attempt at a conversation save.

I knew her saying that had less to do with my career, and more to do with the fact that Punk was almost ten years older than me.

This whole time, Punk was off shoving his face into his arm, trying not to laugh.

What help he was.

Throwing me to the wolves.

I'd get him back later.

Quickly changing the subject, she continued with some questions.

"Did you play any sports in school?"

"Yeah." I paused.

And for the first time all afternoon, Papa Brooks looked at me.

More like glanced at me.

"I used to play for the school ice hockey team."

"I thought you didn't have any friends?" Punk asked.

Apparently now he was finished with his laughing fit.

And thought he was funny.

"Punk! That's just rude! Of course she had friends!"

Now it was my turn to repress laughter.

Truth be told, in high school, I was a douche.

"Um, if you recall, Punk. There is Jakie." I paused.

"And just because I was on a team, it didn't make them my friends."

I shot Punk a smug look.

But but his mother just looked confused as hell .

"Since I was the only girl on my team, no one really talked to me. Plus, I was a jerk. No one liked me."

"That sounds about right..."

I heard Punk mutter.

That earned him a swift kick to the shin.

He grumbled.

"But enough about me," I started, giving Punk a evil smirk.

He looked worried.

As he should be.

"Tell me about teenage Punk."

She laughed and stood.

I followed her, with my eyes, to a book shelf.

She pulled out a large, leather bound book.

"No mom. Put it back! Put it back right now!" Punk pleaded with his mother, but to no avail.

I could have stopped my victory smirk.

But I didn't want to.

–

"I can't believe she did that." Punk whined some more as we were driving from his parents house.

We'd spent almost all afternoon there, and I think Punk actually enjoyed himself a little bit.

"She had to go a whoop out the baby pictures."

"Aw. But you were such a cute, little, pudgy baby! Ah. I could have just eaten you up!" I teased.

"But really. What the fuck? Why so many different hair colors? Were you confused?"

Punk just mocked laughter, and continued driving.

"So. Did you have fun? I mean, spending time with your parents."

Punk took a second to answer.

"Honestly?"

"No. I want you to lie to me." I muttered sarcastically.

"I kind of did." Punk confessed, after giving me a playful glare.

"Aside from the embarrassment of walking down memory lane, it was a nice time."

"Well that's good." I smiled, slipping my hand into his non-driving hand.


	37. Both of You Suck at Being Evil

**Just a little filler fun here! Don't worry. We'll be back to the good stuff next! **

**Have fun.**

**Skee. **

"Punk, seriously." I groaned.

Wow.

I never thought this would happen.

Punk was literally all over me, like kissing everywhere.

His prickly facial hair that would have usually made me drop everything to feel across my skin, was actually a nuisance at the moment.

I mean, it felt damn good.

But I had to take a shower.

And not the kind of shower where Punk can come and play either.

I had to actually wash myself.

It'd been like two days.

"I'm not tell you what I'm wearing! It's tomorrow! You will be fine! Now. Can I go shower?" I asked, after shooting down his hopes for the day.

–

It'd been just over a half hour when I walked from the bathroom, to the bedroom adjacent, and I couldn't believe my eyes.

Punk was bent over my suitcase, picking through it probably looking for my dress I was wearing tomorrow.

I gave a obnoxiously loud throat clear, startling him.

Yup.

His hands were red.

"What are you doing?" I asked, walking into the room in only a towel.

"Oh. Uh. I was just picking out some clothes for you to wear to bed." he lied horribly.

"Oh really. What did you decide?" I cocked a brow, trying oh-so hard not to laugh.

He stumbled with his words for a bit, and searched crazily for something to give me.

Suddenly, his hand came up, holding a pair of Transformer underwear.

Decepticons to be exact.

Again I looked up at him with a cocked brow.

"That it?" I asked still clutching the towel around my body.

But I couldn't do it.

I couldn't keep looking at his wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights, face any longer.

Repressing laughter hurt too much.

"So what were you really doing in my suit case?" I asked in between hysterical giggles.

"I told you!"

I shot him a look, hopefully it looked unconvinced.

But I bet it looked amused.

Eventually he sighed.

"Oh my god. Just tell me dammit!" He groaned, grabbing my arms and throwing me down on the bed.

I laughed.

I knew not telling him would be fun.

"No."

"Why the hell not!" his face was completely devastated.

I smirked.

"It's too much damn fun to watch you squirm."

He dropped his jaw.

Really. How did he not see that coming?

"Plus. You'll be the first one to see me tomorrow." I hinted.

He seemed to like that idea.

Too bad for him.

"Oh wait. Kelly has my clothes. Never mind." I said, pretending I'd forgotten that I told Kelly to hold on to the dress, just in case Punk decided to do what he'd just done.

"I swear. I'm going to get you back for being mean to me." he muttered.

"Oh no. Punk's revenge. I'm so scared!" I whined sarcastically.

"Are you trying to make me mad?" Punk asked playfully.

I cocked a brow.

"If it's anything like the last time..." I trailed on, remembering the night of Punk and Randy's altercation in the elevator.

Then the aftermath.

Oh god the aftermath.

But I didn't have to muse long before I felt the roughness of Punk's scruff along my bare collar bone.

"Then yes. A thousand times, yes, am I trying to make you mad."

I heard his chuckle as his lips traced along my stomach.


	38. No Rest for Us Wicked

"It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday!" I sang in Punk's small kitchen, stirring myself a bowl of cereal.

I sat down and shoved a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into my mouth.

"Everyone is looking forward to the beat down imma give some hoes." I shouted through the mouthful.

"What is our rule about singing?" I heard Punk yell from the closed bathroom.

I sighed.

"No singing. Especially to bad music." I muttered, utterly defeated.

"But baby! I don't like that rule!"

The bathroom door opened, and Punk stepped through the thresh hold looking rather lively for it being barely past seven.

It was probably that morning man dump of his.

"And I don't like cleaning up the dead bodies of people who have to kill themselves to escape your screeching." Punk smiled at my frowning face, and kissed my lips gently.

"That wasn't nice." I said, deepening my frown.

He kissed me again.

"But aren't you excited?"

He smiled, still only an inch from my face.

"Oh, I'm extremely excited. I finally get to see why you've been torturing me all week." he muttered against my lips.

"And just to be fair, I'm not going to tell you what I'm wearing either." he kissed me one last time and stepped towards the kitchen counter.

I frowned again.

"How the hell is that fair? You already took out your revenge on me the other day! You can't do it again!"

he paused to think.

"Too bad." he smirked his shit-eating grin at me.

"How will I know if we match?"

He furrowed his brows.

"Since when do you care if we match?"

I sighed.

It was true.

I just wanted any excuse to know what he'd be wearing, and looking so devilishly handsome in.

–

"Eli, quit fidgeting. Punk should be here already. He's probably just looking for you." Kelly assured me for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes or so since we'd arrived at the arena.

The day was finally here.

Aside it being the Holiday edition of Smackdown, it was the big reveal to Punk.

And really, now that I had it on, and was seconds away from seeing Punk, it didn't seem as hot as it did a few days ago.

"I don't know. Maybe I should just change. He probably wont like it anyways." I muttered tugging at the hem line of the dress.

It barely came to the tips of my fingers.

"Eli. Shut up. You look fucking smoking hot."

As Kelly spoke, I saw Wade and Sheamus walk by, doing the elevator eyes.

I'm sure Kelly caught it too.

"Plus, if he's any kind of man, he'll try and get that dress off of you the second he sees you."

Again, a former flame of mine, Alex Riley, walked by giving me eyes.

"Just like everyone else."

Yup.

She saw them.

She turned to me, and saw the unease that was still all over my face.

Then sighed.

"Come with me." she muttered grabbing my wrist and pulling me towards the bathroom.

My feet shuffled awkwardly behind her.

I wasn't used to walking in heals.

I actually made a point to avoid them at all costs.

But these weren't just any heals.

They were, what Kelly and the sales lady called, Booties.

And they had fur.

So I just had to have them.

We'd pushed through the heavy bathroom door, Kelly stood me in front of the huge mirror.

"Look at yourself." she ordered.

Not something she had to tell me to do twice.

I was wearing a classic, slim fitting, long sleeved, gray sweater dress.

It was actually a perfect dress for me.

It had the long sleeves I was so crazy about.

Also, the collar was a loose turtle neck, so no matter how I moved, it didn't let the edge of my Port-wine stain peak out.

It also showed off my new tattoo rather nicely.

But the best part was, the hem line.

Even thought I tried desperately to pull it down.

I knew it would drive Punk crazy.

Or at least I hoped.

I'd never worn a dress around him before, let alone in front of any one.

I'd only wore a dress on a few occasions in my life; Prom, Jakie's wedding, and today.

When Kelly was helping me dress earlier, she'd insisted on make up.

But I promptly refused.

One step at a time tiger.

So she'd left my face and hair go.

I wore it like usual.

Down, with my bangs flopping over my eyes.

I had to admit.

I looked kinda hot.

"You're fine as hell."

I didn't seem too convinced at her words.

But we had to get back into the hallway.

Punk would be waiting.

And he actually was.

"Hey, Kelly. Where's Eli? I've been looking for her everywh-" his jaw dropped.

But mine had beaten him to it.

He was beyond my previous assumption of "devilishly handsome".

He was a heart stopping kind of gorgeous.

His hair was slicked back.

His black button down shirt had it's collar open, and was tucked loosely into his also black, pants.

And it just wouldn't be Punk without some sort of obnoxious accessory.

Like a straight edge belt buckle.

I saw a grin grow on his lips.

"Now. If you both wipe your drool, we can head to the party. And the sooner we do that, the sooner we can change." Kelly reminded us.

But I couldn't stop.

I just kept on drooling.

I mean come on!

I wasn't used to seeing Punk like this.

And I loved it.

He just smiled, and wrapped his arm around my waist.

At the feel of his hand resting on my hip, I absentmindedly tugged on the hem of my dress again.

But as if to torment me, and not in the fun way, Punk's fingers hiked it right back up, ridiculously high.

Instantly, I snapped my face towards his, which was smirking wildly, and gave him a dirty look.

"Ah, Eli! I see you decided to participate in the festivities this evening!"

I heard from behind us.

I turned to see Teddy Long walking towards us.

I flashed him a smile.

"It's not like I really had a choice..." I trailed on.

He just smiled on back.

By now I would hope he was used to my attitude.

"Oh, and Punk, you're here too. I see you got my text."

I cocked a brow at both of them.

It seems Punk forgot to mention something.

"Let me wish you luck in your match tonight, Playa. And the three of you, go have some fun in the green room." Teddy said, shooing us in that direction.

I gave him a kind of pleating face.

"Oh, and you can change after you go and say hi to everyone and have some refreshments."

I let out a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to be in this dress for too much longer.

All we had to do was down some punch, scarf some shitty cookies, mingle, and be on our way.

–

"Oh my god!" I exhaled obnoxiously.

"It feels so great to be out of that dress!" I stretched my arms over my head and relished in the feel of not having to worry about my dress riding up.

I sat in the steal wearing what I like to call my 'Santa's little helper' outfit.

It was pretty much the same thing I usually wore, but it was red with the white fluffy trim.

Actually, it was the only reason I showed up the the holiday episodes.

Kelly was lacing up her boots sitting in the chair next to me.

I just sat with my legs as far apart as possible.

"I think this is one of the greatest feelings, like, ever." I muttered.

Kelly laughed.

"That says a lot about Punk."

I scoffed.

"I said _one_ of the greatest ever." I winked at her.

She shook her head, as if to cast the mental image from her mind.

"Speaking of which, I'm actually kind of bummed that it wasn't Punk taking it off of me. But it wasn't like he didn't try though." I smirked.

"Ok, seriously. I know we've gone through this before. Punk is gross. You are blind. We get it."

I laughed.

We both got up and left for the Gorilla, where I was to meet Punk.

Then, out of no where, we were ambushed.

"Hey guys! What's going on?" her shrill, and overly cheerful voice filled my ears.

I wanted to die.

"Oh, hey AJ." Kelly greeted her.

I just started to walk away faster.

"Hey, I'll see you guys later!" I said quickly, and sprinted off.

I was looking back to make sure they didn't come and follow me, when I literally ran into Johnny.

"What the fuck man. Where the hell have you been?"

He smirked.

"You know."

I raised a brow.

No.

I actually didn't.

"Dirty-Curty is always lurking about."

I sighed, remembering his nickname from NXT.

"You know, that nickname wasn't intended to be something you liked..."

He shrugged.

"Yeah, but it's got a pretty awesome ring to it." he said, falling into step next to me as we walked down the hallway.

"I hear you've been up to no good as of late too, Eli."

I groaned.

"It's not even me. It's stupid, jealous, little whores who keep starting trouble. I'm just finishing it."

And as if to drive him point home, Kaitlyn and her two new stooges, my former friend, Natalya, and man-face Beth appeared from around the corner.

Seriously.

They've been doing that a lot lately.

I felt like they were stalking me or something.

It was creepy.

"Oh hey Eli. We were just coming to find you so we could wish you luck in tonight's mistletoe battle royal." Kaitlyn said with a nasty smirk.

I had a feeling they had something planned for me.

Something painful.

I just let out a bark of laughter, grabbed Johnny's arm, and turned and walked away.

Laughing all the while.

–

Ok.

So maybe laughing at the three largest women in the WWE right now, wasn't the greatest idea.

Sure I had Kelly and AJ to back me up, however weird that last bit sounded.

But the fact of the matter is, they're like a million times bigger than us.

And only all three of us taking on one of them would do any damage.

But then again.

We did have the rest of the Divas locker room with us too.

And actually, the other Divas and Kaitlyn, Natalya and Beth, took care of each other.

In no time at all it was down to the final four, it was me, Natalya, a something Bella, and somehow AJ.

AJ provided a great distraction for me, and I climbed up to the top rope.

Then I felt hands on my leg.

I quickly turned around and kicked whoever it was in the face.

Once they dropped to the canvas, I notice it was Natalya.

Serves her right.

I turned and grabbed the mistletoe off of the candy cane pole.

I smirked all the way back to the locker room.


	39. Send Me To Heaven Baby

**Hey all! Sorry for the far and in between chapters lately! The new semester just started and I'm trying to make time for everything! But have no fear! I'm working diligently on up coming chapters and should have more up in the next week or so! So please, be patient. Have fun. Review.**

**With love,**

**Skee**

The rest of the night went almost as smoothly.

Aside from the fact that Punk had a match against Randy and didn't tell me until that night, it was pretty awesome.

Apparently, Randy requested the match as some sort of payback on Punk.

I mean really.

You attack a mans girlfriend, and get upset when he confronts you about it?

What a wimp.

And of course, Punk won.

He forced Randy to tap out to the Anaconda Vice.

It was beautiful.

The whole night was well worth the three hour train ride from Chicago to get there.

And it was certainly worth the three hour train ride back.

"I miss St. Louis." I muttered against Punk's chest as we were laying in his bed for the last night.

He lifted his head to look at me.

"Why?"

"Well, aside from it being the site of some pretty epic beat downs tonight, it's a pretty awesome place; totally better than Chicago."

Punk squinted his eyes at me.

I just smiled.

I'd been picking on Chicago all week.

And why?

Because it was fun.

I actually kind of liked the city.

There was a lot of things to do here.

It was probably because Punk knew so many people.

Other than random Colt Cabana visits, we actually did things.

Like go shopping.

And not loser shopping either.

We went to all of Punk's favorite comic book stores, and his friend's cupcake shop.

But that was only when we weren't at the gym.

"Are you just saying that to taunt me?"

I dropped my jaw at him, and pretended to be offended.

"I would never-"

But I just decided to screw it.

"Ah hell. Of course I'm saying it to taunt you! What else would I do with my time?"

"Just to warn you."

Punk started as he moved from under my head to on top of me.

"You won't like me when I'm angry." he whispered against my neck.

I couldn't help but giggle.

"Oh really?" I teased.

"Yes really. I'm very dangerous when I'm angry." his lips traced down the edge of the birth mark.

I took in a shaky breath.

He knew that was a sensitive spot.

Not only because I was self conscious of the mark, but because no other man I'd ever been with dared to go any where near it.

Especially during private time.

"Oh, like how?" I felt Punk smirk against my skin.

I really had no idea where this was going.

"Like this!" he said, digging his fingers into my very tender, and very ticklish, sides.

I let out a yelp, and pleaded desperately for him to stop with his devious tickle torture.

"Punk! Please! Stop! I cant take any more!" I squealed.

"I'm gunna pee my pants! Stop!"

I was literally laughing so hard that I could have.

"Oh, please don't!" he laughed, and lied down with me.

He was facing me, and even through the giggly daze I was in, I could see just how exhausted he was.

My smile faded.

"What's wrong?"

I sighed and grasped his face with my hands.

"You look exhausted. Why haven't you been sleeping?"

He just shrugged.

Well then, that was the end of that subject.

"Ok, better question. What needs to be done so you can sleep better?"

He smirked.

I had a bad feeling about this.

"I need to be able to finally have my way with you!" he said, reminding me of the debt I owed him.

The whole 'no hands' thing.

I groaned.

"Anything other than that?"

He shook his head, and repositioned himself above me.

"I feel like this is going to be somehow painful for me..." I trailed on.

Frankly, I'd forgotten most of what we were talking about once his lips reacquainted themselves with my flesh.

But I forced myself to remain focused.

"Baby." I started.

I heard him grunt in response.

"You never answered my question."

"I believe that this was my answer, sweetheart." he answered in a mocking tone.

I sat up and pulled his face up to mine.

As I looked at him I could tell two things.

One, he was definitely in the mood for some sweet loving.

And two, that would probably waste all the energy he had left.

The bags under those beautiful hazel eyes were darker than ever lately, and his tossing and turning woke me up most nights.

My brows were furrowed in concern, I hated not being able to help him.

He'd been there for me so many times, it was about damn time I stepped up to the plate.

"Baby. What's wrong?"

He sighed.

"I don't even know. I have this feeling that something bad is going to happen, and I can't shake it off." he shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to me.

"Ok. What kind of bad feeling?" I asked.

God.

He was worse than me with shitty, non-helpful answers.

He rolled over on to his back, and put his hands behind his head, taking a deep breath.

"I don't know. But can you do me a favor?" he asked sitting up to be at my eye level.

He took my face in his hands, and stared right into my eyes.

"Don't do anything too rash, alright?"

I smiled at him.

"I'm serious."

And he was.

It was written all over his face.

He was truly worried that something bad would happen to us.

"I won't. I promise." I answered, leaning forward to kiss him.

"But you have to promise me something."

He nodded.

"When you can't sleep, wake me up. Then we can not sleep together."

He smiled at me.

Oh was it gorgeous.

"I like the sound of that..." he smirked, now against my lips.

"Yeah, it does sound pretty awesome."

And after a few short minutes of and amazing make out session, Punk pulled back.

"Hey, I can't sleep."

I couldn't help but smile at his shit-eating grin.

He was so lucky that I couldn't think about anything but kissing him.

Actually, we both were.

Because in the last five months, I doubt I've thought much about anything else.


	40. My First Hero

"If you could call back as soon as possible, that would be much appreciated."

Then click.

I wasn't sure how long my face was like that, eyes wide, and in utter shock.

But it felt like forever.

I'd just gotten off of a three hour flight from Chicago to this week's Raw location of Spokane, Washington.

Not five minutes off of the plane I get a voice mail from a New Jersey state government building.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Punk asked, probably noting my stuck-stupid expression.

I blinked a few times, then answered.

"That was the Jersey State Prison, apparently my brother was caught in a courtyard brawl."

His eyes widened.

But I couldn't really notice anything else, because I was frantically pressing the buttons to call the Prison back.

And after ten, horrible, minutes on hold listening to the worst music ever, and yelling at some secretary, I'd finally made it through to the Warden.

Coincidentally, he was a friend of my fathers.

"I'm sorry Eli. There's nothing I can do."

I groaned.

"He was involved in the incident, and he needs to deal with the consequences like everyone else. He can call you Monday morning, when he's out of the hole."

God.

The hole.

AKA solitary confinement.

–

That was Saturday afternoon, and at that moment I couldn't think about anything else.

Since then, actually, I'd forgotten all about it.

Until six, Monday morning.

I heard Punk groan at the annoying gangster rap, about slitting throats and raping bitches, I'd replaced the Dubstep with.

I mean really.

He had to make up his mind.

Gangster rap or Dubstep?

I reached for my slim, red phone on the night stand, and saw it was a blocked number.

That usually meant Prison.

After a swift hit in the head with a pillow from Punk, I answered.

"You rang?"

How was he so caviler after his weekend get-away?

I guess it was the family curse.

"What the hell Marcus? I get off a plane, and get a voice-mail that you were in a brawl?" I barked, instantly waking up and sitting back against the headboard.

"Calm your tone with me missy. And maybe I'll tell you."

God.

How could anyone stand to be around him for more than five seconds?

"If you must know, it was a big misunderstanding. I was trying to break it up and they thought I was instigating it."

I sighed.

"And if I know you, you were."

He gasped on the other end.

"Darling sister! How dare you think such a thing?" he paused.

"But I promise. I had nothing to do with this one."

I sighed again.

"And speaking of trouble. You've been up to no good haven't you?"

Apparently someone has been keeping up with the show.

"They let you watch that in Prison?" he scoffed.

"They let me do everything in Prison. But seriously. What have you been getting yourself into?"

"Just some misunderstandings." I said, mimicking him from earlier.

He laughed.

I looked down at a half sleeping Punk, and smirked.

"But hey, enough about me. How would you like to talk to my boyfriend?"

That got him to shut up.

"Boyfriend?"

I laughed at his confused tone.

"Yeah. How did you not figure that out?"

"Oh! It's the guy from the show! The one that looks like a street bum!"

I sighed in defeat.

At least he wasn't a child molester.

"Yup! That's the guy. Do you remember his name?"

"Yeah. Something stupid. CD Pow?"

"CM Punk. His name is CM Punk, brother"

God.

He was an idiot.

"What are you Hogan or something?" I heard Punk grumble next to me.

"Damn you're loud."

"You would know." I retorted, he smirked.

"You're right I would."

Punk's sleepy body came up to rest against the headboard next to me.

"Is that him? Let me talk to him!" I heard Marcus yell in my ear.

I smirked deviously at Punk.

His early morning face seemed worried.

Ah, sweet revenge.

"It's for you." I handed over the phone, gave him a quick kiss, and fled for the bathroom in less than a second.

I was reaching for the door knob when I heard him talk.

"Hello?" he paused and put his hand over the mouth piece of the phone.

"Eli!"

I just turned and shot him a big smile, leaving him to be tortured by my brother.

–

I'd purposely spent close to an hour in the bathroom.

I wanted to prolong Punk's suffering, seeing as he didn't help me what-so-ever with his family.

I wasn't going to help him with mine.

I'd finally returned to the bedroom in time to hear something horrible.

"So let me get this straight." Punk said loudly, grasping my attention instantly.

He was staring right at me.

Defiance written all over his face.

"So she used to climb in your bed, and cry? Like every night?"

My jaw dropped.

What the hell have they been talking about?

I quickly made my way to the bed after pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a random t-shirt.

I hopped onto the bed and grabbed for the phone.

"Really? And she used to wet the bed too?" Punk reiterated the embarrassing stories from my childhood that my brother was, no doubt, willingly feeding him.

He let out a loud bark of laughter.

"She used to wear her underwear on her head and pretend she was a Power Ranger?"

Finally I grasped the phone.

"Marcus! Shut up! You're supposed to be the over protective brother who asks a lot of awkward questions, not be all buddy-buddy!"

"Oh! Well if I knew that was what the plan was I would have done a better job!"

I seriously doubted that.

"Can I have the phone back?" Punk asked from under me.

To get the phone back I had to wrestle him onto his back, and sit on his chest.

If we weren't on the phone, this would have been a pretty fun position.

"No! You two are never allowed to talk to each other! Ever!"

Punk shot out his bottom lip.

God what a convincing pout.

"No! Do not give me that face!"

"Hey, I got to go. Other people want to use the phone." I heard Marcus say from the other end.

I turned my attention back to him.

"Ok, go sell some more trade secrets, asshole." I muttered.

Both Marcus and Punk laughed.

"Tell Punk I said bye!"

I scrunched up my face.

"No. I'm not supporting your ridiculous instant bromance."

Again they both laughed.

And at that, I flipped the top of my cell phone down.

"What did he tell you?" I demanded after I threw the phone somewhere, and pinned Punk's arms down.


	41. If First Was the Worst then Second Sucks

Ok.

So playing bad cop with Punk only got me so far.

And on a normal day, getting to second base wasn't a bad thing.

I would have never guessed that my own brother would dole out my childhood embarrassments like that!

But I had to put all that on the back burner for the moment.

Right now I had a bigger problem.

Actually, I had three bigger problems.

Their names: Kaitlyn, Natalya, and Beth.

They'd popped their heads out from behind the corner Kelly and I were taking.

I groaned my usual obnoxiously loud noise.

"Oh, hey Eli." the queen hoe-bag herself started.

"I can't wait to beat you tonight in our match."

I scoffed at her words.

She, beat me?

Unthinkable.

Impossible.

"Oh, ok. I'm sure you will in fantasy land. But while you're there, I'll be here in the real world, kicking your ass. And winning." I said matter-of-factly.

"You want to place a bet on it?" her eyes narrowed, and her lips up turned into a devilish sneer.

"Always." and at that I'd just sealed my fate.

With the same stakes as last time, she wins, we switch partners, if I win, we don't.

I had a heavy feeling in my stomach.

Tonight felt different.

Tonight didn't feel good.

–

"Eli. You can't be serious." Kelly finally said, draining the tension that had started once we left Kaitlyn and bitch two and three.

"Once was one thing, a second time is just asking for trouble!" I turned from my staring position in the viewing room, towards her.

"Kelly. Are you really going to force me to say it for the millionth time?" I paused.

She didn't look impressed.

"I will do just fine. I'll win. And we'll all live happily ever after. The end." I smirked and turned back to the match on the TV.

It was Sheamus vs. Wade Barrett to settle their little feud they had going.

I honestly didn't pay too much attention to the guys and their problems any more.

I had my own shit to worry about.

"Are you at least going to tell Punk?" she asked.

Before I could answer, a voice interrupted us from the door way.

"Tell me what?"

Oh jeeze.

It was Punk.

But what I didn't get to say, before Punk came in, was that I actually wasn't planning on telling him.

What would the point be?

I was planning on winning.

It would just be unnecessary stress for him, especially since he had a match against Randy tonight.

I tried desperately to think on my feet.

I wasn't really that good at it.

It took all my might not to look like a deer in a set of headlights.

Then I had a stroke of genus.

"That Kelly's a psycho." I stated standing up and walking towards the door way to Punk.

"How could you date that?" I threw my thumb over my shoulder towards a sitting, jaw dropped, Kelly Kelly.

Punk laughed.

As I pushed Punk from the viewing room, I shot Kelly a glare and stuck my index finger against my lips.

"Shh!"

She just furrowed her brows and turned back towards the monitor.

"So what is so secret that you can tell Kelly and not me?" Punk asked the moment I turned my attention away from the disappearing viewing room.

"It's nothing. I swear. Just some girl stuff." I stammered out and forced a smile, resisting the urge to clutch my chest in pain.

God I hated lying.

"But on a much funner note. I do need some help stretching. Tonight's a big night." I smiled, and hooked my arm with his.

"In case you forgot, the last time I helped you stretch, we caused quite a scene." Punk reminded me with a smirk on his lips.

I too couldn't resist a smile remembering the dramatic aftermath.

It was hilarious.

"Touche." Punk laughed.

On our walk around the backstage area, I spotted a empty hallway.

"But I much rather make a scene again." I muttered pulling him down the secluded hall, where we stretched out and started a warm up, for the most part.

We had to give people something to talk about.


	42. Side Effects Include The Following

**So the website fucked with one of my line, I realize now. So bare with me. I'm trying to get it to work but it's being a stupid fuck. Sorry. I'm find of frustrated. **

We were just finishing up, sitting along one of the cool cement walls, when the squeal of sneakers came around the corner.

I looked up, and instantly repressed a very loud, very obnoxious groan.

"Hey Eli! Punk! Are you guys stretching?"

God.

Her pep made me borderline suicidal.

"Oh yeah! I want to apologize for the last time I caught you two 'stretching'. I didn't mean for it to blow up like that."

Or that's at least what I thought AJ said.

Her words shot out so fast, that the only thing I actually heard properly was "stretching".

And I only heard it because she slowed down long enough to throw in some air quotes around it.

I just stared at her with my best dumbstruck look.

"blahblah blahblah blah blahblah blahblahblah"

Her words were just white noise at this point.

It was torturous.

And I had to stop it.

I blinked through my stupefied face and waved my arm over my head.

"These aren't the droids you're looking for!" I yelled in my horrible British accent.

AJ just returned to me a confused head tilt.

"What? I wasn't looking for anything..." she trailed off confused.

The moment had just gone from annoying to awkward.

I could see that she was about to start up again, and it needed to be stopped.

"Hey, look it's Kaitlyn!" I yelled even louder than before.

And as AJ turned to look in horror at absolutely nothing, I saw my opening.

I'd never gotten up that fast without getting dizzy before.

I grabbed Punk by the arm and literally dragged him along the floor for a few milliseconds until his legs straightened out and he stopped being dead weight.

I sprinted down the hallway, and could barely hear her yell after us.

"Was all that really necessary?" Punk asked.

"Absolutely."

He just gave me an unimpressed look.

"What? I doubt you were enjoying any of that, because I sure as hell wasn't." I grumbled crossing my arms and continuing down the hallway.

Punk came up behind me and slammed his arm pit into the back of my neck, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"I mostly meant the StarWars reference." he sounded almost disgusted.

"Hey! It was the only thing I could think of!" I laughed and unfurled my arms to wrap one around his waist.

"But that's why people say I'm like a haboob."

Instantly Punk's feet stopped.

I turned back to see his utterly struck stupid face.

"A what?"

"A haboob."

I paused seeing him still lost.

"It's a real word!"

"Oh really? What does it mean?" he challenged, completely unconvinced I knew anything about what I was talking about.

"It's a very strong sandstorm in the Middle East." I said matter-of-factly and stuck out my tongue in victory.

Punk just rolled his eyes and started walking again.

He leaned down and kissed the side of my head.

I could feel his smile against my skin.

My own face fell at the happy moment.

I couldn't believe that I'd chosen to purposely stomp all over the trust this man had in me.

I'd lied to his face.

And, at that moment, I'd realized that I also broke my promise.

"What's wrong?" Punk's voice rang in my head, snapping me from the pity party in my head.

His hazel eyes looked into my green ones with genuine concern.

Quickly, I searched my mind for a conversation change.

Bingo.

"I just came to a realization." I paused.

Punk cocked a brow.

"I may be a haboob, but you're the one with the boobs!" I smiled, bringing my hand to his chest and lightly squeezing his rather hard man-cleavage.

He broke out in laughter for a few moments then abruptly stopped.

"I do not have boobs." he said with a serious face.

I fought back a smirk.

"I'm sorry."

I paused for dramatic affect.

"But you have boobies." I finally let my smirk reign free across my face, and smacked his t-shirt covered chest.

"Eli!" I heard from behind us.

I turned to see a tech guy's head poking out from behind a corner.

"You're up in ten." I sighed and turned to follow him.


	43. Teeth Marks On My Ass

"What the fuck!" I screamed at the top of my lungs in the center of the squared circle in front of thousands of people, and millions at home.

But seriously.

What.

The.

Fuck.

After face planting about ten or fifteen times because of outside interference and the retard ref being utterly blind, I'd just been pinned.

And she didn't even beat me.

In all actuality, we barely even touched.

It was Natalya and Beth doing all the damage.

I'd somehow ended up on the ring apron, Kaitlyn charging right at me.

As she was about to impale her shoulder in my gut, I sidestepped and shot my knee out.

She ran full force into my bare knee.

So maybe I hadn't thought that all the way through.

I wasn't used to using my knees for things and at the moment, they were all I had.

She stumbled back half a step, still hunched over, allowing my opening.

I jumped up on to the middle rope, aching knee and all, and sunset flipped over her back.

I landed with a thud on the canvas, and I pulled with all my might on Kaitlyn's legs.

If I could get her on her back and roll her up, I'd have it all in the bag.

But I'd forgotten one key fact; she was still much bigger than me.

With me pulling and pulling with every muscle in my body, she was still able to maintain her balance.

A smirk grew on her face, and she plopped her knees down on my arms.

I yelled out in pain.

She was a 130 lbs and all of her slammed right on to me.

Kaitlyn's arm reached back and grabbed my good leg; going for the pin.

I kicked and wiggled.

Oh did I kick and wiggle.

But no matter how hard I tried, my free leg was too banged up to any actual damage.

Plus.

Her hand gripping the ropes didn't make for an even playing field either.

In fact, it is even illegal.

Oh was I pissed.

I'd literally ripped the ref a new one for his lack of attention.

I'd even been hit with a steel chair and he still hadn't noticed.

And again.

What.

The.

Fuck.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

On top of me losing to Kaitlyn, I'd just lost my tag team partner, CM Punk, to that dried up excuse for a human being.

But in my head, I'd just lost my boyfriend to that thing.

I was literally on the verge of murder.

And you'll never guess who I was stuck with for a tag partner now.

Randy.

Yeah.

My day just went from bad to worse.


	44. Purgatory

**So just so everyone knows, reading your reviews are like crack to me. So I can't stress enough how much I NEED you to review my story. Like I said. CRACK. **

**Have fun. **

**Much love,**

**Skee.**

I'd never left the ring so upset.

Everything I touched I got pissed at.

I took the two steps down the steal steps, then kicked them.

Walked past the screen wall on the stage, and stupidly punched it.

Even though my fist was screaming in pain, I refused to stop.

I walked past an empty chair, then threw it.

When I got into the locker room, things got worse.

Out of the corner of my reddened vision, I could see a few other Divas sitting, watching, in utter horror as I threw everything, everywhere.

Despite loosing or winning, I left it all in the ring.

But not tonight.

Tonight was literally the worst night of my life.

After a few more moments, the other Divas left, and I'd finally calmed down.

I was standing in the middle of the room with my hands over my face.

All I could really focus on was breathing, and I could barely do that.

And after what happened tonight, I really didn't want to.

I'd much rather die, than have to relinquish anything, a win or Punk, to Kaitlyn.

And tonight she got both.

Someone dared to enter my hell.

I pitied who ever it was.

"Why are you standing on a chair?"

My head shot up from behind my hands.

"Why aren't you out there in your match?"

It was Punk.

And he was supposed to be going up against Randy right now.

"I convinced Teddy to postpone it for a few minutes."

But he didn't smirk, he just extended his hand towards me with a sad look in his eyes.

"I'll ask again, why are you standing on a chair?"

I took in a deep breath, and took his hand, stepping down off of the chair.

"It's easier to breathe when you're not at everyone else's level." I muttered, sitting in the same chair I'd just stepped down from.

I just stared off into space.

My emotions were all out of whack; I was pissed because I lost, I was sad because I wasn't going to be tag partners with Punk any more, I was excited to see Punk, and, oddly, I was anxious.

"I can't believe that I'm that stupid. I knew I shouldn't have pushed my luck. I'm a fucking idiot."

Again, my hands came to my face.

My fingers could reach my hairline just enough to tug at the locks.

"Hey, stop that." Punk demanded in a low, loving, voice.

I felt his hands grip mine lightly, and place them back on my lap with his.

"What's wrong? You're never like this." I looked down at him, kneeling in front of me, concern all over his face.

It broke my heart really.

I hated people worry about me.

And Punk was looking so drained from having to worry 24/7 lately.

But I couldn't seem to help.

I couldn't stop doing the stupid, arrogant, things that caused the people I loved to exhaust themselves looking out of me.

My brow furrowed as I continued to beat myself up for my idiocy.

"Eli. What is going on?"

His words came out laced with anguish, ripping my heart out.

I sighed, gearing up to make my confession.

"Remember how I promised that I wouldn't do anything rash, the other night?"

Punk nodded slowly, his own brows furrowed as well.

"Baby what did you do?"

I could feel my eyes start to burn.

I had to admit to Punk that I'd purposefully lied to him.

I, of all people, should know how bad lying is.

I'd spent the majority of my adulthood in a type of relationship that was founded on lies.

Why did I have to make that happen now too?

"When you found me and Kelly earlier, and you asked about what we were talking..." I paused, trailing on.

I didn't want to do it.

"Well, I was telling Kelly that if she told you I made another bet with Kaitlyn, I'd make her pay." I didn't dare make eye contact.

"What kind of bet?" I could hear the worry in his voice.

My vision started to blur with the increase of moisture in my eyes.

I stammered with some sounds, but none of it was actually audible.

"Was it like the last one?"

I took in a shaky breath, and nodded.

Punk let out a sigh.

I dared a peek at his face.

His eyes were closed, and his brow was furrowed.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I let out an whimper and pulled my hands from his.

My balled fists rubbed the wetness from my eyes.

"I don't know. I didn't want you to worry about anything other than your match."

"It's a little late for that now." he mumbled.

I doubt he meant for me to actually hear it.

"I know, I'm stupid. I'm really sorry."

The words caught in my throat as I said them.

My hands found their way back into my blond hair, and tugged.

Hard.

"I said stop that." Punk said pulling my hands down with more force than before.

It was silent for a few more moments.

"It's fine. We'll be fine." I furrowed my brows and looked up at him.

Obviously we wouldn't be.

It would be a miracle if I could see him for a few hours, let alone a few minutes, on a normal day.

Now that we had no legitimate reason to travel together, like being tag-team partners, management had no reason to keep me on Raw.

"How will it be fine if we can never see each other."

Then I realized even worse news.

"How will it be fine if you're with Kaitlyn all the time, and I'm with Randy? How the hell is that going to be fine?"

But instead of answering, Punk brought my hands, now clasped in his, to his lips.

Revealing to me the small, familiar, black outline below his left thumb, from under his sweatshirt cuff.

I traced the inked in design with my own thumb, first the antennas, then the wings, and lastly the hind legs.

It was so familiar, because I had the same thing on my neck.

It'd already been a full two weeks and still, nobody noticed it.

I guess, when you have as many tattoos as Punk, people tend to not notice when you get a new little one.

It was actually kind of funny, because it was one of the places my eyes instantly went to on his body.

If I wasn't looking at his eyes, ass or stomach, I was tracing the black butterfly with my eyes.

"Baby, we'll figure it out. I swear." he assured me, pressing his forehead against our hands.

"Punk."

I heard the familiar voice of Johnny Curtis mutter, poking his head through a crack in the locker room door.

"Teddy wanted me to tell you that he needs you out there. He can't post-pone the match any longer."

Punk sighed, released my hands, and straightened out his legs from his position in front of me.

"I'll be back in a little bit." Punk said, tilting my head back, his hands cupping both sides of my face.

My eyes again meeting his.

This time, instead of worry, I saw a new kind of ferocity.

Something in my gut told me that he was in the mood for some serious ass whooping.

He pressed our foreheads together, and whispered.

"Wait for me."

His words reminding me of the last time I thought I might lose Punk to Kaitlyn.

I'd left the arena without him, and gone radio silent for almost two days.

I blinked, then nodded.

And as I blinked, a streak of wet misery painted along my bottom lid and teased the notion of it staining itself down my cheek.

But before I, or it could tip the balance, Punk's thumb that rested just below, caught it, wiping it away.

"Punk." Johnny's voice sounded in the silence.

Through the crack in the door, I could hear Teddy tweaking out about the wasted airtime.

Punk pressed his lips to my forehead, and seemingly reluctantly, stepped away.

I knew how he felt.

It took everything I had to curb the sensation to hold on to him and never, ever, let go.


	45. How Subtle

**Hey all. I know it's kind of short, but since I'll be off the radar for the next few days I thought it'd be better than nothing. But have no fear. I'll be diligently working on new chapters. And when I make my return it'll be good. I promise. So remember, make me happy, REVIEW!**

**And until next time. **

**Have fun. Stay safe. **

**With love, **

**Skee.**

When Punk left the room, Johnny was still standing in the doorway.

His brow was furrowed.

After a second of analyzing my current state; depressed, exposed, and very, very, pissed off, Johnny took the steps towards me to land him in the chair next to me.

Well, this was new.

For a few reasons.

I wasn't usually so... Emotional.

And Johnny certainly wasn't so understanding.

He was a dude.

So sympathy wasn't exactly his strong suit.

This was usually a job for camp counselor Kelly Kelly.

"Kelly's out setting the rumors straight." he said, reading my mind.

"Apparently, some of the divas were saying that you were going to jump Kaitlyn after the show, or something like that."

I laughed.

"Honestly, I'm considering it."

Johnny too let out a chuckle.

It was silent again.

Leaving me to reflect, which never ended well.

The past fifteen minutes came back to me like a movie.

It felt so surreal.

But it happened.

What to do next was the problem.

"God. This fucking sucks." I grumbled.

Damn.

Was that the understatement of the century.

But before I could let my mind wonder on how things could get worse, Johnny spoke up.

"Ok. I get that you're in pain here. But come on."

I turned my entire body to look at him.

He'd stood up in his adrenaline rush, and was looking down at me.

My brows were fully furrowed.

"This isn't you, and you know it. You're not the kind of person who just sits and wallows in self pity. You love yourself way too much to hate you. No one likes the pouty, pity-party, Eli. We like the old you. Arrogant, mouthy, and a bastard. Well, we don't that you either, but it's a hell of a lot better than the pussy you."

He paused, letting me review his words.

And suddenly, he was right. I

was a piece of shit that barely anyone liked, dammit.

Why was I acting like a three-year-old?

"You've been through worse, and you always bounced back. So quit sitting on your ass, and get the fuck out there and show them that you're tough as nails, and not a little, whiny butt baby like you are right now."

I narrowed my eyes at him calling me a baby.

But I stood, and walked towards the door.

Along the way, I smacked him in the stomach, and shot a grin over my shoulder.

He laughed.

"That's more like it."

I let out a laugh too as I hurled the door open and took a step out.


	46. I'll Journey to the End With You

**Hey again. After a few days hiatus, I decided to give you a bit longer one. **

**So have fun. **

**And review.**

**With love, **

**Skee. **

After that, Johnny had taken me to the viewing room where we got two treats.

One being, watching Punk work his magic in the ring, and two was Kelly bitching and moaning about all her hard work to get people to shut up after my match, and how no one appreciated it.

And no one did.

But other than that, watching Punk beat the snot out of Randy was the most excitement I got.

I stared intently at the TV screen until Punk came and found me.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, motioning to the gray sweatshirt I had on, it at least two sizes too big, and going well beyond the bottom of my ring shorts.

"Oh, well. Kelly said you told her to hold it, and she said that I'd be better at it." I smiled, bringing the hood around my neck to cover said grin.

"Well, am I ever going to get it back?"

I shot him a cocked brow.

"I think you know the answer to that."

He sighed.

The last time I stole a sweatshirt, it was a workout for him to get it back.

I'd taken it shopping initially, but after that I never took it off.

I wore it when we worked out, went out, and after a late night or two, I even wore it to bed.

That lasted for, like, three days.

And it didn't last longer because Punk had used my own dirty, pouting, tricks against me.

Plus, he looked kind of weird wearing my Devils hoodie, it being at least a size too small for him.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that I have like a million." he chuckled, and slung his arm around my shoulders as we shuffled down the hall back towards the locker rooms.

"Get dressed, I have a surprise for you." I looked up at Punk curiously.

I opened my mouth, but Punk stopped me.

"And before you try and use your witchcraft on me, I'm not going to tell you. So get your ass in there and change." He finished, and pushed me towards the door.

I laughed and slipped in.

There was still no one in there.

Which was kind of, freaking awesome.

I grabbed my bag and realized it was empty.

Probably from when I threw that fit earlier.

I sighed and looked for my missing clothes.

After a minute, I took an inventory.

Shirt, check.

Bra, check.

Socks, check.

Shoes, check.

Pants, not check.

I groaned.

It was just my luck to lose my pants.

"Are you almost done in there?" I heard Punk ask from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

"No! I can't find my pants!" I yelled back.

"You didn't take them did you?" I asked, remembering the time he took my shorts.

Multiple times in fact.

He chuckled.

"No, I promise. Hurry up and find them!"

"Easier said than done dude!"

"I doubt that."

I scoffed.

"Well, if you think it's so easy, you come look then!"

The door was shoved open.

Punk didn't even come over the thresh hold.

With one hand he held open the door, and the other pointed above my head.

"Found them." he smirked.

I turned to where his finger was directed.

A black denim pant leg was hanging down from above the cubby hole I'd been using to house my stuff.

I sighed and jumped up to get them.

Fail.

When I was coming down, I landed on my winter boots that were sitting in front of me.

And like the poised, elite athlete I am, I should have been able to balance myself.

Then I remembered, I'm not a poised, elite athlete, and fell face first on to the floor.

Instantly, I heard Punk bust out in laughter.

I could just imagine him pointing at me too.

I groaned and stood up, rubbing my face.

"It's not that funny." I muttered, narrowing my eyes at him.

He tried to stifle his laughing fit with his fist, which didn't work one bit.

I pouted.

"Oh, come on. It was hilarious." Punk left the door way and came and pulled open a chair, sitting in it.

"Are you ok?" he asked sarcastically.

His brows were furrowed in playful concern, and his voice reminded me of how I spoke to Rosie some days.

I scrunched my face together in detest.

"Do you want me to kiss the booboo?" he continued in that damned voice.

But on some, twisted, level; I loved it.

I shot out my bottom lip, nodded, and pointed to my cheek, which was where my face had hit the floor.

He chuckled but did just as he said, and kissed my cheek.

"All better?"

I smiled a huge, baby-like smile and nodded.

"But I gots all sorts of other booboos too." I said in my own baby voice, trying oh so hard not to laugh.

Punk smiled, and was about to lean down and kiss some more places I would have loved.

But he stopped.

His grin growing across his face.

It was devilish.

"I wouldn't want you to spoil your appetite." he teased.

Yup.

Devilish indeed.

"Now get dressed." he kissed my forehead, and hopped up and strode towards the door.

"Can you at least get my pants?" I pleaded.

He turned and smirked at me, but got them down anyways.

Once he'd handed them to me, I started to undress.

I was mostly done by the time he reached the door.

Ok.

So maybe I was hoping that me being semi-undressed would change his mind, and he'd come back and kiss me some more.

Nope.

The look on his face when I randomly stripped off my shirt was enough to say he was at least thinking about it.

But damn him and his secret plans.

I stood, and with gym bag in hand, went to the mirror next to the door.

I was wearing a red long sleeve shirt that read "New Jersey Devils" across the chest, Punk's gray sweatshirt, my own leather jacket, and those damned black ripped jeans with the Batman belt buckle.

I flipped my shoulder length, blonde hair a few times until it fell just the way I wanted it.

I had to admit, I looked kind of hot.

And I hoped like hell it all ended up on the floor by the end of the night.

I leaned down and slipped on my furry winter boots and went to meet Punk on the other side of the door.

–

Ok.

So this was a first.

Literally, it was.

Sure, Punk and I had been dating for just over four months, but we'd never actually gone on a date.

The closest we'd gotten was working out then eating lunch, or something.

We'd been friends for a year or so before we got together, so we knew each other pretty well.

And we jumped into it so fast there wasn't time for a first date.

Actually, when I thought about it, I'd never been on a first date, ever.

Randy was always so worried about fans getting pictures or his wife finding out, that he didn't dare take me out.

The others weren't really that kind of relationship.

So when we got out of the cab in front of an all night diner, reminding me of the 50's, I was a little taken aback.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, honestly curious.

He smiled.

"Well, I was going to take you somewhere more fancy, but I realized that we would just get kicked out anyways." his arm came around my shoulders and he spoke against my hair.

I could feel the visor of his dingy blue and white hat graze against the top of my head.

I laughed.

It was true.

If we went anywhere the required pristine, we'd both be out of there before we could even sit down, especially in the clothes we were in now.

We entered the place and sat down in a booth near the back, like always.

And were immediately greeted by an older woman, with slightly graying brown hair.

She took our order, and it being after a show, I ordered a lot.

First, stake and potatoes, too keep from a lactic acid buildup.

Then I wanted some pancakes, because I love pancakes.

Who didn't?

I could hear the chef bitch and moan from the back.

Why wouldn't he?

It was 11:30 at night.

I doubt he wanted to fire up the grill.

When she finally came back, even Punk gave me a funny look at the amount of food.

"Are you sure you're going to be able to finish all that?"

I smiled.

"Oh hell yeah."

And that was pretty much the last thing I said for a good thirty or so minutes while I stuffed my face.

I looked up a few times to see Punk looking at me, and laughing.

"So what's the plan tonight?" I asked once I'd finished.

Punk tilted his head thoughtfully, and thought for a moment.

"I not too sure."

I cocked my brow at him.

"But what I do know, is that we're not going back to the hotel."

I slouched my shoulders and dropped my jaw.

That's where I wanted to go!

"At least not until the sun comes up."

Again I cocked my brow.

"What the hell are we supposed to do until then?"

It was just past midnight now, and most places were closed, even in a big city like Spokane.

"I don't know. We'll find something."

At that the lady came over again, asking if we needed anything else.

"No. I think were good." she was about to turn and walk away to get the check, when I stopped her.

"Wait!"

She looked at me with raised brows.

"Do you have pie?"

Punk groaned.

I just waved my hand at him, telling him to shut it.

"No but there's cheese cake."

I felt a big smile grow on my face.

"Can I have some of that please?" she smiled and went to get it.

I turned back to Punk.

His eyes were narrowed and brows furrowed at me.

"What?"

"More food? You just eat your weight in stake and pancakes. How can you have any room left?"

I just shrugged.

I.

Loved.

Food.

It was that simple.

A few seconds later she came back with a small plate, with a rather large piece of cheese cake on it.

I'd have to leave her a good tip for all the running around I put her through.

I sank my fork into the gooey goodness, and when the baked cream cheese and gram cracker mix hit my tongue, I was in heaven.

That lasted all of two minutes, until it was gone.

"Could you even taste any of that?" Punk asked, referring to the speed I'd eaten it in.

I shrugged.

"The first bite, but after that not so much."

He laughed.

The lady came back one last time, but this time with the check.

A few minutes later we were back outside in the 35 degree weather.

For it being mid-December, and so up north, it was kind of warm.

I had the hood of Punk's sweatshirt pulled over my head and partly shading my eyes.

If Punk had a sweatshirt, it would be doing the same thing.

We'd look like a couple of creeps walking down the street together.

But he just pulled his hat down over his brow instead.

I looked down to zip up my jacket.

The sweatshirt hung down so much farther than my black jacket did, and the sleeves were so much longer too.

I could have gotten lost in it.

After, I readjusted my gym bag that was slung over my shoulder, and hugged onto Punk's arm.

"So where are we off to?"

Punk smiled and slipped his arm from my grasp to place it around my shoulders, hugging me tightly.

"Where ever we want."

I tilted my head back with a smile on my face.

His lips came down on mine, as we continued down the darkened street.


	47. Bang, Bang

"AHH! Goddammit Punk!" I screamed in the black room.

The lights were completely off and the only reason I could see anything was because of the glow of the dark, neon paint on the walls.

Plus the laser on the business end of my plastic gun.

"Why can't you let me win just once!" I grumbled and slouched back towards the entrance of the laser room.

"It was your idea to play laser tag." Punk reminded me, coming from the opposite end of the room.

I leaned my back against the wall and crossed my arms.

"Oh come on. Just because you lost three or four times doesn't mean you can be a poor sport." he leaned his shoulder next to me against the wall.

"Three or four? Try seven." I grumbled again.

I mean really.

We'd been there an hour, and I was yet to win even once.

"I thought it was eight?" Punk smirked.

I narrowed my eyes.

"I'm not counting that one. You cheated."

His jaw dropped and he took in a big gasp.

"I would never do that to you darling!"

I scoffed.

"Bullshit. The door wasn't even closed for five seconds and you shot me point blank! How is that not cheating?"

He just laughed.

"Alright, how about this. We play one more time, and I promise that I'll go easy on you."

I pondered his deal for a moment.

"You promise?"

His answering smile was the one that made my knees weak.

Thank god I had a wall at my back.

"Cross my heart." he winked at me as he made an 'X' over his heart, and leaned in towards me.

I smiled as his lips met mine.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself, when I heard a chime come from my chest pad.

I pulled away to see the red light flashed on and off, signaling I'd just been killed.

I dropped my jaw and narrowed my eyes at Punk.

"What? I didn't mean now!"

"I'm going to get you back, so bad." I mumbled against his lips.

"Oh, I'm quaking in my boots." he too muttered against my lips.

But instead of meeting again like I so yearned for, Punk took another second to taunt me, then stepped back and around the corner.

Smirking all the while.

"Ohhh, I'm going to have so much fun with this." I too backed away, and around a barricade.

I was on the hunt now.

–

"And you said I was a cheater..." Punk trailed on from underneath me.

I smiled.

It'd taken close to ten minutes to gain the advantage.

I'd even had to resort to some underhanded tricks.

I slipped off my boots, and placed them strategical in front of an opening in a barricade along the floor.

And once Punk went to take the obvious kill, being the cocky bastard he is, he sprung my trap.

Literally.

I sprang on him, tackling him to the ground.

First thing I did once he was pinned was swat away his gun, it now well out of his reach.

But just in case, I pinned down his right arm and pressed the barrel of my gun to his chest pad.

"It's not cheating when your own ego gets the best of you." I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I was seconds away from pulling the trigger when his words came fast.

"Truce!" he managed to turn from my lips.

I let out a chuckle.

"Oh? And why would I want a truce?" I let my lids drift open, still nose to nose with Punk.

"Because I have this talent," he started, "that drives the ladies wild."

"The ladies? That certainly isn't helping your case." I teased the plastic trigger again.

"Wait wait wait!" Punk pleaded. "Maybe this will help." his nose nudged my chin up, exposing my neck to his lips.

"Hm. A truce is sounding pretty nice right now." I could feel Punk's teeth graze against the velvet of my tattoo.

"Alright you bastard. You get your truce." I groaned, about to burst.

He chuckled and started to sit up.

His arm easily came free from my grasp, over powering me was something he was oh-so good at.

I still had the gun pointed at his chest.

"You made the right choice Babe."

Then 'click'.

A few seconds later the light show and beeps started again.

"Eli!" he actually looked shocked.

"Oh, what? I didn't mean now!" I mimicked him from earlier.

He growled and flipped me onto my back.

I let out a big giggle as his fingers dug into my sides.

"Hey, I really need to close up. My boss will kill me if he finds out that you paid me to do this." said the young teenager who maned the front desk of the laser tag game.

I groaned.

This job was probably the only thing the poor kid had, and it was well past one.

We had to leave.

"All right, all right. Keep your braces on." I muttered, reaching for my boots.

And at that we left.

"So are we going to do this all night? Run around town and cause trouble?" I asked while reaching into the duffel bag still slung over my shoulder.

He'd been serious about not going back to the hotel.

We both still had our ring gear with us.

I took a black wool hat from the bag and pulled it over my blonde head.

The temperature had dropped some, and my ears were freezing.

"You know what I want to do?"

I laughed, lacing my fingers with Punk's.

"I want to go skateboarding."

"Do you even know how?" I leaned my head against his shoulder as we strolled down the street.

"Oh, and I assume you do, Miss. I-Can-Do-Everything?"

I couldn't resist a chuckle at the name.

It was true.

I could do just about anything.

"Um. No Mr. I'm-Just-Grumpy-Cause-I'm-Not-That-Cool. I can't skateboard. In case you forgot the prime example from earlier, I have terrible balance."

His lips curved into a smile, it brighter than the street lights that shone down on us.

My heart skipped a beat.

"All we have to do now is find some Spokane hipsters, and a park."


	48. We're No Tony Hawk

**So I hope everyone is enjoying the story thus far! =) It's about to take some drastic turns so keep reading! Also, I have realized that I'm addicted to another thing. Uploading new chapters. I seriously upload a new the second I have it all edited. Or I have to physically stop myself from uploading too many chapters too fast. But I doubt you guys mind. So remember.**

**Have fun.**

**Review. **

**With love,**

**Skee**

It's sad how easy it was to do that.

Not fifteen minutes later, we found said hipsters and they pointed us towards a freeway overpass.

Under it was the beginnings of a skate park.

It wasn't anything special, just a few different vert ramps.

But like hell we cared.

We were just looking for a good time.

I was standing at the top of the tallest ramp, it being at least six feet off the ground.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" I asked, turning to look at Punk playing with the wheels of a skateboard we borrowed off some kid.

"What, you chickening out on me?"

I showed my best offended look and made some ridiculous noises.

"I'm not a chicken."

"Then move." he said, pulling me away from the edge.

I grabbed his face, and pressed my lips hard against his.

"I would say, good luck. But, you know, you're weird." I winked.

He leaned down and pecked my lips again, with a smile.

Punk dropped in, and looked damn good doing it.

But he didn't make it far while still on the board.

He made it about half a second, then his ass planted on the wooden ramp just before it turned to concrete, and slid along the ground.

My eyes were wide and my jaw was dropped.

I didn't know what to think.

But Punk stood up and looked fine.

"I'm totally doing that next!" I yelled excitedly with my fists raised high above my head.

He laughed and climbed back up the ramp.

I was handed the board, and peered down the steep ramp.

Suddenly, I was having second thoughts.

"You know what..."

I started turned to see a smirking Punk.

"What? I'm not chickening out!"

He didn't look convinced.

"I was just going to say, maybe I shouldn't do this..." I was thinking of a great excuse, when Punk bumped my shoulder.

And started making chicken noises.

"Goddammit. Fine. I'll do it!" I yelled, it echoed through the overpass.

There were a few random kids hanging around some of the other ramps.

They probably should have been home in bed by now.

They looked over at us with curious looks.

Punk leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"You're such an ass." I mumbled when he pulled back.

He laughed, and smacked my ass.

After that, I propped the board up against the rim, and was about to drop in, when Punk stopped me.

"Wait!"

I turned back with wide eyes.

"I gotta get this on camera." he said, digging into his pocket to get his iPhone.

I groaned.

This was going to be fun.

–

"WOAH!" I heard my voice yell again from Punk's phone.

Then he busted out laughing.

"You know it's not that funny." I muttered in his ear.

After dropping in at the skate park, I'd immediately landed on my ass.

And when I say 'immediately' I mean, the front wheels didn't even touch the ramp.

It was sad.

On top of that, I was so tired I could hardly stand.

So I jumped on Punk's back and had him carry me around town.

"Alright. Alright. I'm putting it away." he said, stowing his phone and slipping his hand back around my thigh.

I let out a huge yawn, and snuggled my head between my arm and Punk's neck.

It was pushing four.

I could see the orange tint on the horizon signaling sunrise was soon.

"What tired already?"

I nodded, way too exhausted to use words.

I'd been up since the early morning, the previous day, then had a huge match, and now I was staying up all night.

No amounts of caffeine could keep me from passing out once my head hit the pillow.

"Well, we're not quite done yet."

I groaned.

"Hey. Before you start your complaining, we can go back to the hotel, if you want, and finish our night there."

I cocked a brow.

"Oh really?" I asked, kissing his neck.

He chuckled.

"Yes really."

And suddenly I felt my sore ass sit on the hard ground.

At least he didn't drop me.

I pulled me knees close to my chest and rested my forehead on my folded arms.

I could faintly hear Punk talking on the phone for a few moments, then silence.

And his heat was next to me.


	49. There's a Word For People Like Us

We sat there on the curb for at least twenty minutes, and the cab ride took another ten.

I thought we would go back to our room, and do some pretty wild things.

But no.

We went to the roof.

"Punk." I started, turning my head towards him.

We were on our backs, laying in the foot deep snow.

His arms and legs were moving when I looked at him, making a snow angel.

His head snapped to me, at his name.

"Yes dear?" he smirked.

"When you said we were going back to the hotel, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind." I alluded as I turned my body and rested on his chest.

"Well, just because we're on the roof doesn't mean we can't have a little fun." he hinted, sitting up onto his elbows.

He tilted his head up and kissed me.

I chuckled.

"For your own good, I would advise against that."

He cocked a brow at me.

"If you thought my fingers were cold before," I started, said digits finding their way down his torso to the hem of his jacket and shirt.

"then you can imagine how cold they are after spending all night outside."

But my words were drowned out by Punk yelping, and jumping at the sheer iciness of my fingers against his stomach.

"See? Bad idea."

I could feel the goosebumps breakout along his skin.

"Why?" he pouted, plopping back against the snow.

I snuggled my nose into the crook in my elbow, on his chest.

Punk's hand came to my now bare head, and stroked my hair.

It was starting to soothe me to sleep.

Then Punk shook me.

"Eli." he whispered.

"Eli I need you to wake up."

"Who's up here?"

That got my eyes to snap open.

I awoke being in the snow again, and Punk was crouching close to me.

"What the fuck was that?" I muttered, shooting to my feet.

Punk grabbed my arm and pulled me down to his level.

"You of all people, I would think, would how to avoid security."

I dropped my jaw.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He shot me a look.

I sighed.

He was right.

I did know how to avoid the man.

Courtesy of my teenage deviance.

"Follow me."

I rolled my eyes at his huge grin.

He was having way too much fun with this.

"Stay low."

We crouch-walked along one of the many vents on the snowy roof top.

I stopped right before the metal corner turned, and poked my head out just enough to see the rounded man, pointing a flashlight around.

I snapped my head back behind the vent, and turned to Punk.

"He's right there." I mouthed, with just enough sound to it so only he could hear.

I checked back, and the guard was consistently taking a few steps forwards, away from us, and the door.

After another few seconds, I decided that it was now or never.

"Come on!"

I slowly rose from my crouched position, and took steady and cautious strides towards the heavy metal door.

I pushed on the bar and the latch make a loud click.

I grimaced, but pushed on through.

"Hey! Stop there!"

I heard from behind us.

I pulled Punk by the hand down the stairs and on to the first floor possible.

But we still couldn't stop.

Despite his large size, the security guard was right behind us.

Within a few steps the elevator was in sight.

Only then did I stop, long enough to pound on the down button about a million times.

A second or two later, the shinny, silver doors opened and I animatedly pushed the close door button.

"Come on. Close. Close. Close. Close." I muttered bouncing on my tippy-toes praying like hell for the doors to close.

And they did just that a few seconds later.

I sighed as the rush of adrenaline smacked into me.

I backed up against the metal wall of the elevator.

"God. I haven't had a rush like that since I was a kid." I mumbled.

Punk came to stand in front of me, his hands gliding up my neck.

And suddenly, we were throat deep in a rousing game of tonsil hockey.

I felt the elevator stop, then a faint ding went off in the background.

My foreground was full of Punk, and much more important.

"Would you like some fries with that?"

I felt a smirk grow across my lips.

I knew that sarcastic tone.

And I knew it all too well.

I'd spent that last eight years glued to her hip,

I'd better know it.

And I also knew it was a matter of time before this whole thing got awkward if me and Punk didn't stop.

So I reluctantly placed my hands on his furry cheeks and gently pushed back.

Who would have thought that it would be me stopping all the fun before it started.

I continued to hold his face as I turned to my best friend who was standing at the polar opposite wall.

"Oh. Hey Kelly. What brings you here?" I asked in a huff.

She'd forced me to stop the make out session I'd been dying for all night.

You can't blame me if I was a little upset.

"Well. I was heading out for a run," she paused, giving me time to notice that she was wearing her usual jogging attire.

Her long blond hair was tied into a ponytail, her bangs were held back with a pink headband.

She also wore a pink Under Armour long sleeve shirt, and a matching black pair of spandex shirts with their own pink stripe down each thigh.

Spitting image of Workout Barbie.

"When I was stopped by one of the hotels' security guards. He told me that there were two hooligans in black running around the hotel and if I saw anything I should alert the front desk..." she trailed on the last bit, her brow cocked.

"I have a feeling I'm looking at the two hooligans right now."

I scoffed.

"Kel. You know I never get in trouble."

She scoffed this time.

"Because you never get caught."

I smiled.

"Very true. But I would never do such a thing."

She gave me a look that said 'like hell I'll believe that'.

"But Punk on the other hand." I said, tapping his cheek with one of the hands that was still holding on to his face.

"Has no problem getting me in trouble."

Kelly rolled her eyes and turned towards the elevator doors.

"I'm pretty sure it has less to do with Punk, and more to do with the fact that you're just a bad influence." She muttered under her breath.

I dropped my jaw.

But before I could make any sort of protest, there was another ding and the doors opened to the lobby.

"But you two might want to take your freak show somewhere else. Bruce is looking high and low for you."

I furrowed my brow in confusion.

Who the fuck was Bruce?

"Wayne?" I asked honestly confused.

"No. Not Batman. Freak. The security guard."

And at that the doors finally closed in her face, and she was gone.

"Well, she was right about one thing..." Punk started.

I turned back to him.

His cheeks fully smushed between my hands and his own jaw.

"You are a bad influence." he smiled that shit-eating-grin of his.

I laughed.

"No no no no, what she got right was that we should take our show somewhere else."

I made my own smart-ass smirk at him.

Which he seemed to like an awful lot.

"Hm. That too."

He didn't waste anything jumping back down my throat.


	50. Remember Darling, Think then Speak

**Hey everyone! I hope you all have a great Valentines day yesterday! And for a late V-day treat, a new chapter. WELCOME TO CHAPTER 50! Hahaha. Oh joy. What an adventure this has been.  
>Remember Review.<strong>

**With love,**

**Skee.**

We tumbled back into the hotel room.

Surprisingly avoiding Bruce the whole way down the hall.

And as we tumbled, our clothes did too, onto the floor.

I heaved a big breath and turned my head towards Punk.

He had his head propped against his fist and a huge grin across his lips.

"What?" I gasped, still trying to catch my breath after the mind blowing forty-five minute sexy time we just had.

His hand that laid across my stomach started to rub the side of my waist.

"It's been a long time since you've been like that."

His middle and index fingers started to moonwalk along my skin.

It tickled.

"Like what?" I asked with a furrowed brow.

He smiled wider.

"Loud and very vulnerable."

I dropped my jaw and scoffed.

"And when I mean loud, I mean holy crap. I think I'm partially deaf!" Punk joked, using his finger that was playing with my skin to poke at his ear.

I laughed and smacked my hand against his stomach.

He let out a grunt but laughed too.

"Plus. You're tired. And when you're tired you're always," he paused, thinking of a word.

"softer."

I cocked a brow.

"I think your hair would beg to differ." I smirked, motioning to his now contorted chocolate locks.

His hair had still been slicked back from last night's Raw, but now it was just a hot mess.

I too turned onto my side, facing him, and used my own fingers to play along his flesh.

He chuckled.

"I didn't say nicer. I said softer."

I smirked.

"I don't want to say you're easy to please," he paused again, being very thoughtful about his words.

It was cute.

I watched his face as he sifted through thoughts within the next few moments.

Finally, he spoke.

"But I can't really think of another way to explain it."

He laughed.

"I think it's kind of funny, that on our last night together, we're so connected."

He looked down at me, his fingers had stopped with waist and now toyed along my jaw.

I examined his face.

It wasn't anything new to me, but every time I took a second to look, my breath was taken away.

He was wearing his usual, normal, smirk.

In fact, it wasn't even a smirk, it was just how his mouth was.

His eyes were a different story.

Aside from the dark rings underneath his lids, they spoke wonders.

It didn't matter what expression he wore on his face, Punk's eyes always gave him away.

And tonight they said, he was sad.

Ever since he'd met me in the locker room earlier that night, those hazel windows have had nothing but sorrow in them.

Sure, I could tell, he'd had a great time on our date tonight.

But he was sad for it to end.

I reached my hand that was on his chest, up to rest on his cheek.

I petted back the fly-away stands of hair behind his ear.

I loved that he let me do this.

Just lay there and stare at him.

And I did just that for a good few more minutes.

I relived the past few hours.

I loved that he'd come to make sure I was ok after my match with Kaitlyn.

I loved how he put all his heart into his work.

I loved that he could spin the worst situation into something worth wild.

I loved his compassion.

His passion.

His genuineness.

I blinked, and a new thought entered my mind.

I loved _him_.

I couldn't resist a smile across my lips.

"What's so funny?" my beloved's voice snapped me from my inner monologue, and made me realize I was smiling a huge toothy grin.

Punk's eyes had changed from sad, to curious.

I was determined to make them shine.

I sat up and turned around to face him, sitting on my knees.

His brow was cocked, curious as to what I was doing.

I pushed his shoulders down, flattening him against the bed.

My leg swung over his hip, and a smirk grew on his lips.

He was so cute, thinking he knew what was going to happen next.

I laughed under my breath and reached back for the down comforter that had covered out nude bodies, pulling it over our heads.

It was pitch black under the blanket, unlike the open room; the windows bleeding early morning sunlight.

I leaned my head down, touching my forehead with his.

Punk's hands came to rest on my hips in anticipation.

I giggled again.

Someone was ready for round two.

I lightly pressed my lips to his for a moment, then whispered.

"Guess what."

I could feel the smile grow on his lips due to our proximity.

"What?" he whispered back, smoothing his hands up my spine, then back down.

"I love you." I whispered even lower.

It barely audible.

I couldn't keep the smile from curving my mouth.

"What?" he asked using his normal voice.

My smile instantly fell.

I pulled back, bringing the blanket with me.

I threw it over my head and stared down at him with furrowed brows.

"What the hell do you mean 'what'?" I all but yelled.


	51. The Midnight Hour

My anxiety started to kick in.

Did I say it too soon?

Was he not ready yet?

Did he not love me back?

In my mental panic, I hadn't noticed that Punk had sat up and his hands had come to hold my face; his eyes staring intently into mine.

It was almost like he was looking for something.

I blinked and snapped back into reality.

And in reality, I was pissed.

I pressed my hands back against his shoulders trying to push him back.

I couldn't breathe.

Finally, he realized what I was pleading for, and leaned back down on to his elbows.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

I blinked my eyes a few times at his surprised features.

Did he really just ask me that?

"What's wrong? What's wrong is that I just told you that I loved you and you said 'what'?" I stated, flailing my arms about.

I'm from Jersey.

It's just what we did.

"Yeah, I know."

I furrowed my brows more, if possible.

Yep.

Definitely not the answer I was looking for.

"Let me finish!" Punk said, sensing that I was a good five seconds from going off the deep end.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were serious!"

I cocked a brow, now thoroughly confused.

"You told me, that the last time you said 'I love you' to some one, it was Randy. And we all know how that turned out." he paused.

I could see the disgust on Punk's face at saying another man's name.

He took a deep breath.

"I've loved you since the day I met you. I just didn't know what it was until a few months ago."

His hands came over mine that still rested on his chest.

I'd known him for just less than three years.

That was a long time to love someone without telling them.

"And I only said 'what' because you caught me by surprise."

My brows had gone from fully furrowed to practically popping off of my head.

It was silent for a few moments.

Punk's hands still grasped mine tightly.

"Awkward..." I muttered, tapping my fingers on his inked chest.

He smiled.

Understatement of the century.

On both accounts.

Awkward didn't even begin to cover how horrible that last minute had been.

And what was on Punk's face wasn't just a smile.

It was the sun.

I'd always loved it when he smiled, but at this moment I couldn't think of anything better.

Not even breathing.

"I guess I should apologize." I mumbled, looking down at our hands.

Punk chuckled and sat up once again.

One of his hands came to my face and turned it back towards him.

My eyes sheepishly followed suit.

"For loving me?" he asked.

Like hell I knew how to answer that one.

So I just stared at him.

Like a deer in head lights.

"Not a chance." his voice was more of a whisper, like only me and him were allowed to hear it.

His lips came to mine, lightly at first, then the rush of my confession seemed to seized hold of him.

His hand had released mine, and pushed my hair back from between our faces.

I slid mine up to grasp his jaw, trying to bring him closer.

I felt his hands shift on my skin, going from resting gently on my cheek, and knuckle deep in my blonde hair, to lingering along my spine.

I too, took my hands from him, but only for a moment.

Enough time to lift the discarded comforter over our heads once again as I smirked against his lips.

We toppled backwards on to the bed.

Our lips were apart just long enough for Punk to let out a bark of laughter.

I let go of the blanket and lightly ran my fingers down his entire torso.

His velveteen chest bore a new sensation.

"How did I not notice this before?" I muttered mostly to myself.

The follicles along his chest started sprouting the tiniest of dark brown hairs.

They prickled against the pads of my fingers.

I shifted down, kissing along the skull and snake tattoo Punk had on his chest.

My lips came to the dip between his pectoral muscles; I couldn't help but let out a giggle.

"Boobies." I muttered.

"Hey."

I tilted my head up to look at him.

But it was kind of difficult with the blanket in the way.

"I don't have boobs." he said playfully stern.

I shifted back to in front of his face, I tried oh-so hard to hide my smirk.

My lips found his prickly neck, leaving tiny kisses up and down the flesh.

"Whatever you say dear." I muttered in between kisses.

I felt, all too well, his hands trail from my hips to around my back.

And before I could protest, I was laying flat on my back in the plush sheets.

The blanket was somehow still over us, keeping our intimate moment ours.

I let out an obnoxiously loud groan.

"Way to ruin all my fun!" I grumbled.

Punk just smirked that shit-eating grin, and kissed his way around my face.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." he drawled out.

"But I figured that you'd want to get down to business, and we all know this is the only way it can be done." Punk stated, reminding me of my fatal weakness.

A cowgirl I was not.

His hand trailed from my side down, around my hip, and up my thigh.

Que the goosebumps.

And the tingly feeling that followed his hands all over my skin.


	52. I'd Rather Drink the Punch

"Hmm. Say it again." Punk muttered against my lips as we stood in the terminal of the Spokane Airport.

This was it.

We were to take off on different planes for the first time in months.

And for the first time in my life, I was nervous.

I tugged lightly on the belt loops of Punk's jeans with my fingers and kissing his lips again.

"I love you." I couldn't help a smile at his excitement to hear it.

He was like a little boy in a candy store.

I'd already said it, at least, ten times since last night.

His own hands tugged at the hood of his sweatshirt I was wearing, it sitting on my head, and bringing me in for another kiss.

His throat let out a low growl.

"Again." I giggled and did so.

And instead of insisting I say those three words once more, Punk let out a slightly louder growl than last time, hooked his arms under mine, and hugged me tight, taking me off the floor.

Surprised, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and let out a yelp.

"Punk!" I laughed.

He joined in, and put me back on the ground.

"The flight to Dayton, Ohio, is now boarding." at the voice on the intercom, I groaned.

"I don't want to get on the plane." I grumbled, my face buried in Punk's chest.

"You'll be fine." he laughed.

He still thought my apprehension towards human flight was funny.

I groaned again.

"It's not funny. If you think I'm a hysterical mess when I fly with you, imagine me before! I couldn't even look out the window!" I whined.

"Aw. Poor baby. You're so scared of riding on a plane."

I took my balled fist and jammed it right into one of Punk's kidneys.

Lovingly of course.

"Hey now. Violence is never the answer."

I scoffed.

"Oh, ok, Mr. Pier-Six-Brawl. You practically beg for it." he laughed and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"I'm pretty sure, last night, it was you who was begging for it." I laughed sarcastically.

But before I could utter a come back, the voice came back on.

"Last call for the flight to Dayton, Ohio." I groaned again.

I moved my face to look directly at his, and took it in my hands.

The course hair tickled my palms.

"I have to go." I didn't like saying that.

Not one bit.

Punk pushed out his bottom lip, pouting.

I wished it was that simple of a fix.

But this couldn't be changed by just asking for it.

This was my ultimate challenge.

And I had to win.

"I love you." I muttered pecking his lips once more.

I reached down and slung my carry-on bag over my shoulder, and was met by his lips again.

"I love you too. Be safe."

"I'm getting on a plane. How is that remotely safe?"

He just let out a chuckle and kissed me one last time.

I savored it.

Who knew when the next time I could do that would be.

"I'll text you when I get off that death trap." I stated, taking a step backwards.

It took all I had not to jump back in for one last squeeze.

But I took another step backwards, then finally was able to get on my plane.

I grumbled as I trekked past the seats in the first half, and didn't stop until I was ass planted in the seat next to Johnny.

"What took you so long? You almost missed it!"

I shot him a dirty look.

"Sorry. I was saying goodbye to Punk. And why the hell would I want to-"

He cut me off.

"Yeah yeah, we know. Insert angry, planes-are-evil, Eli psychobabble here." he rolled his eyes as he said it.

"Now, on to more important things." Johnny slouched in his seat.

"You remember that kids' show, the catch phrase was 'going ghost'?" I asked him.

"Yeah." he answered, not bothering to look at me when he answered.

"Well, you're catch phrase is 'going creep'." he laughed.

Of course he loved it.

Suddenly, the engines of the plane fired up.

I groaned.

Every muscle in the body tensed up and my fingers dug into the arm rests.

Ah, hell, how I've missed you.

Thank god I was already buckled, because that's how I stayed for the next few hours.

"I'm thinking about talking to her. What do you think?" Johnny asked, breaking me from my internal hell.

I dared to glance at what he was looking at.

And no doubt, it was his ex, Maxine.

Who had made it abundantly clear, by marrying Derrick Bateman, that she was not interested in Johnny any more.

So obviously, Johnny had to be convinced otherwise.

"Johnny. She's married. I wouldn't."

He scoffed, still staring holes through her.

"Eli. You had an affair with a married man."

"Yeah. And look how that turned out. Contrary to common belief, it's not that great being the other woman."

"Don't you mean other man?"

I scoffed this time.

"No. I meant woman."

He laughed.

"You called Derrick a girl..." he muttered.

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm going."

"What the hell did you ask my opinion for if you were just going to ignore it?" I asked as I watched him walk towards an unsuspecting Maxine.

I felt sorry for the girl.

Her marriage was on shaky ground as it was, Johnny was only making it worse.

But I didn't get to feel sorry for long, before turbulence kicked in.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and waited out the minute long bumpy ride.

I heaved a sigh of relief for being still alive when it was over.

Like I'd told Punk, without him, this whole experience was ten times worse.

"You still afraid of flying?"

I heard that raspy voice whisper from the seat next to me.

I shot my eyes open and they landed on Randy.

"What do you want?" I grumbled.

As of late, I wasn't too happy with Randy.

It was his partner, or now former partner, who's fault it was I was gripping the seat and not Punk's hand right now.

"Aw, why so grumpy?" he asked, placing his elbow on the arm rest my fingers clutched to, and propped his chin on his palm.

That made him only a few inches from my face.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because last time I saw you, you decided to kick me in the face a few times..." I trailed, Randy gave me an unimpressed look.

"I didn't really have a choice,"

I stopped him before he could continue with the bullshit.

"Nobody tells Randy Orton what to do." he smirked his devilish grin.

His teeth were barely visible from behind his lips.

"You would know." he reminded me playfully of our past.

Not something I wanted to think about.

Ever.

I turned back towards the seat in front of me.

"I'll ask again, Randy, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to say hi, and that I'm excited to be your partner."

I didn't need to see him to know what face he was using.

I could hear it in his tone.

It was that voice that used to send shivers down my spine.

Key phrase, 'used to'.

"Bullshit. This was probably all your idea anyways."

"Actually, you're not too far off."

I furrowed my brow.

Ok.

Now I had to look at him.

"It was Kaitlyn's idea. But I'm willingly participating."

Not a lie.

For once.

"Why?"

Did he really hate me that much to have to make me live in hell?

"I'm determined to get you back."

I'll admit.

I wasn't expecting that.

I laughed.

"Randy, in case you forgot. You dumped me and made it pretty clear I wasn't wanted anymore."

"What if I told you that it was the worst mistake I'd ever made," he paused, the tips of his long fingers sliding over my thigh as he looked at me.

"And that I'm sorry." his whole hand was now resting on my thigh, gently messaging the denim.

And is wasn't a friend hand placement.

It was the RKO of his sex arsenal.

Where ever we were, when Randy put his hand on my thigh like this, it meant he was roaring and ready to go.

And every single time he used it, I caved in.

But not this time.

"Then I'd say fuck off" I dared to release the arm rest from my white knuckle grip and pushed away his hand.

"And leave me alone."

A movement from behind Randy caught my eye.

It was Johnny, nursing his cheek with his hand.

"Hey, Randy, care to get out of my seat?" Johnny asked.

He may be a redneck, but he isn't stupid.

Johnny knew exactly what was going on, and exactly how it was making me feel.

Randy smiled again, that devious grin, and did just that.

Johnny plopped down, rubbing his cheek and pouting like a child.

"I told you not to go over there." I started.

A subject change seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.

Johnny laughed.

"She's feisty."

I groaned.

Of course he liked that Maxine had slapped him.

He was a creep.

He finished rubbing the tender skin on his face, and shoved my arm off of the arm rest.

I turned to him with a disgusted look.

"It's my turn for the arm rest."

"Oh alright. I just hold on to you for dear life." he laughed and brushed me off.

Big mistake.

The next thing he knew, my hand gripped his forearm, and my short nails were digging deeper and deeper into his flesh.

"Oh good god!" Johnny yelled, attracting the attention of at least four or five people around us.

He let out a whine as he looked at his arm, it showing off a line of four crescents.

"Punk doesn't complain." I muttered turning back and rightfully taking the arm rest back.

"Because he's psychotic! He has to be to date you..." Johnny muttered that last bit.

Oh.

This was going to be a fun plane ride.


	53. Access Denied

It'd been at least three weeks since I'd actually got to see Punk for more than five minutes on certain media days.

And I'd been so busy with being Randy's personal assistant, or as he called his personal "pain in the ass", I couldn't be on the phone for more then five minutes.

"God, this is hell."

I muttered through my chicken quesadilla while at lunch with Johnny.

He'd taken on primary responsibilities as best friend since Kelly was stuck on Raw.

That was the only good thing.

Yes.

I loved my best friend.

But I needed her eyes more.

It wasn't a secret that Kelly wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she had the eyes of a hawk.

If something was going down, Kelly was the first to know.

So if Katilyn tried any shit, I'd be the second.

Johnny just looked at me, having actual manners and not talking with his mouth full.

Once he'd finished chewing he spoke.

"Thank you for the preview of your food before it was digested. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." I said lacing the words with pure sarcasm.

"But its been almost a month since I've been with Punk. Please excuse my lack of caring what other people think."  
>"When have you ever?"<p>

I took another honking bite of quesadilla.  
>"Touche."<p>

This time a speck of food actually fell out.  
>"Charming." Johnny muttered, looking kind of disgusted.<p>

I swallowed down the bite in my mouth and laughed.

I was about to retort with my own brand of sarcasm, when my phone vibrated.  
>"Dammit."<p>

I muttered after reading: '_We have an interview and two make-wishes starting in twenty minutes. Where the hell are you?'_ from Randy.

"I got go. Sir Randall call-eths." I said in my English accent, with a twinge of distaste.

I'd been getting better at it since I'd been dedicated to Smackdown.

And since the only real friend I had there was Johnny, I was dying to make new ones.

Wade just so happened to be sitting next to me while watching the show the past couple of weeks, so he'd been helping me out.  
>"You two seem to be spending quite a lot of time together lately." Johnny cocked his brow as he made the statement.<p>

The waitress came by to check on us.  
>"Yeah. Can I have a box for this and a glass of whiskey to-go?"<p>

She seemed confused by the 'to-go' part.

But I just handed her my glass and shooed her away.

"We're tag team partners. Its expected we spend a lot of time together."

The girl came back, a Styrofoam container in one hand, and my whiskey in the other.

Quickly I packed the delicious Mexican sandwich in the foam box and picked up the glass.

It wasn't even as remotely full like one would guess.

There was barely a half an inch worth of liquid in the tinted glass, but it was just enough to keep me perky and able to deal with Randy for the next few hours.

The glass touched my lips and the sweet spice taste drained down my throat.

I didn't quite slam the glass on the table, but when I put it down it did make a 'clank' sound.

"I'll see you later." I said, standing up from the table.

I'd been so used to eating lunch with Kelly that I'd mistakenly leaned down and kissed Johnny's cheek, like I would with her.

Awkward?

Yes.

Amazingly so.

He instantly pulled away and snapped his face towards me, totally in shock.

"What too straight for you?" I smirked.

He just pushed me away from him and pretended like he didn't know me.

"I'll never leave you alone, Johnny! NEVER!" I yelled as I left the restaurant, turning the heads of everyone in the place.

But it didn't phase Johnny.

He raised his hand all the way over his head and waved at me, his face never turned towards my direction.

"Good to know! See you later!" I laughed.

He wasn't one who was easily embarrassed.

He was that kind of guy who was so comfortable with himself that he could grind up on another dude, wearing only a thong.

And do it completely sober.

I slipped on my jacket just before I pushed through the doors of the restaurant, and pulled on the hood of the second layer I wore.

It'd been snowing everywhere we went lately.

The temperature had to have dropped too.

It was at least 10 degrees colder then when I went in to eat.

It was cold enough for me to have to zip my jacket all the away up.

Which I never did.

But we were in Canada.

And these bacon lairs were also crazy.

I thought I knew what cold was because I grew up in New England but my first trip to Canada was something else.

It wasn't like now, buried in three feet of snow, but it was still cold.

It had been early march, and most of the snow was gone.

But the wind blew like it was Christmas eve.

And I was stuck walking three miles from the hotel to the gym.

And back.

Another not bright idea by Eli Strong.

I was waiting outside the building for another minute or so when a brand new, and oddly still spotless,

Escalade came rolling up in front of me.

Randy just loved being flashy.

I rolled my eyes and hopped in the passenger seat.

The heated leather seat instantly warmed my ass. It was so great.

"God. Why is it so quiet in here?" I grumbled as we were pulling out of the parking lot.

I pushed some buttons on the radio, hearing my car jam.

I squealed and turned it up blisteringly loud.

That lasted all of 30 seconds before captain buzz kill turned it off.

They didn't even get out the first line.

Only the background word, "Ghostbusters".  
>"Oh hell no."<p>

I tried to put up a fight, but to no avail.

I slouched in my hot seat.

What a day to forget my iPod in my gym bag.


	54. Being Confused Isn't Easy Either

"So what are you planning on doing for new years?" Randy asked, breaking the painful silence within his rental.

I thought for a moment.

I hadn't really planned on doing anything.

Just sit around, maybe give Punk a call.

No, definitely give Punk a call.

"Staying in my hotel room."

"What? Since when do you stay home when a party is going down?" he seemed genuinely surprised.

"Uh, when I haven't seen or even had an actual conversation with my boyfriend in weeks. And that would be the only time I could talk to him. Plus, he doesn't like when I go out without him." I said, hoping I made him feel like an idiot.

Randy was silent for a few moments.

"Well, how about this." he paused.

"Call Punk tonight and ask him. And just so you know, it's not just me going. Wade will be there, Sheamus, Alberto, Christian, and I think Johnny said he'd go too."

"Uh, I still doubt Punk will let me go with them either..."

"Oh come on. If you didn't hang out with the guys you've slept with, you would have any friends!"

He had a point.

Aside from Johnny, all the guy friends I have now, I'd slept with.

I laughed.

"Plus, Alicia and Aksana are going too. Calm down."

I sighed.

There was no getting away from this one.

If Randy was one thing, other than an asshole, it was persistent.

And what Randy wanted, Randy got. So if he wanted me to tag along to the New Years party in three days, then he would make sure it happened.

I actually really, didn't want to go.

Partying when Punk was so many miles away wasn't that appealing to me.

Sure he was straightedge, but he was still fun as hell to hang out with.

Even at bars.

"Alright, alright. I'll ask him." I stated, digging for my phone that had started ringing.

"Oh god. What is that shit?" Randy's face looked disgusted at the Straight Edge Punk rock that was coming from my cell.

"It's H2O. Shut up. Hello?" the phone was pressed against my ear, when Randy continued to talk.

"Who the fuck is H2O?"

"Why are you guys talking about my boys?" Punk's voice rand in my ear.

Instantly, my attention turned from Randy to the phone call.

This was a pleasant surprise.

"Oh, he was just complaining about my ringtone. So I told him to shove it."

"What? You have the shitty gangster rap as your ringtone all the time, and now that I'm not there you use the good stuff?"

I laughed.

"You hate me don't you?"

I scoffed.

"On the contrary, I love you." I whispered the last bit, just so he could hear me.

"Plus, it's their Madonna cover." I said, he groaned. '

"Oh, that's right. You like that song, don't you?" I playfully asked, and stifling back some laughs.

I knew full well that it was the only Madonna song he'd listen to, because of it being a H2O cover.

We went back and forth for a few moments about the song, then Punk's voice changed.

"Wait, are you with Randy?" I groaned.

"Yeah, we've got a bunch of shit to do today."

"You two have been together a lot lately."

Coincidental, Johnny had said almost the same exact thing to me at lunch.

And it hadn't been false.

Randy and I were stuck together all the time because we were tag-team partners.

I couldn't count how many times I had to remind Punk of that in the few weeks we'd been apart.

But he just really didn't like Randy.

And I could understand why.

Randy was a jerk, through and through.

"Babe. You know I can't really help that." I toned down my voice, not liking where this conversation was going.

"You can help how much time you spend with him on your off time." he started.

"I know you guys go out almost every night."

"Punk. It's not just the two of us. There are others who go too. And some nights I go out alone and he just pops up out of no where."

Yeah.

Seriously didn't like the direction of this conversation.

Randy pulled the car into a local radio station's parking lot, and turned to me.

"I'm going to head inside." I nodded, trying desperately to get him out of ear shot.

Randy was the last person who I wanted hearing this spat.

A second later, the door was closed and was off to the interview that asked for Smackdown's new innovative, male-female tag team partners.

I had to be in there.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't like the idea of you going anywhere with Randy where there's alcohol involved."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Eli, when you're drunk, you can't control yourself. And frankly, you're super easy."

Ouch.

That hurt.

"Punk, seriously, what the hell is wrong?"

Randy walked back towards the car, and opened my door.

"Seriously, tell him you have to go. We have to get in there."

I could hear Punk on the other end getting more frustrated as Randy spoke.

"Punk, I got to go."

He laughed.

And not a funny laugh either.

"Yeah, ok. Go with Randy." I could hear him take in a shaky breath.

"Don't worry about me bothering you two again." then there was a soft click.

Dammit.

I looked down at the phone, it saying call ended.

What the hell was all that?

Why was he so mad?

I blinked a few times, and opened up a blank text message.

_You need to calm down. Call me when you do._

I paused, wondering if I should type the next bit.

_I love you._

Then I hit send and reluctantly got out of the car.


	55. Tell Me

**Tell Me It's Over, I'll Still Love You The Same**

There I was, New Years eve, sitting at a local bar by myself.

I played with the white key card for my hotel room as I waited for my next glass of whiskey.

I wasn't too sure which one this was.

Third?

Maybe forth?

Like I said, I wasn't too sure.

It had been three days since I'd last talked to Punk, and since he never called me back after yelling at me, I was assuming the worst.

At least drinking made it feel better.

It was almost eleven, and Randy and some others were supposed to meet up here soon.

I just wanted to get an early start.

Tonight's show hadn't made things easier either.

Sure, I was match free.

But in the last few weeks, I'd gone from Randy's partner, to his personal ring bitch.

Not to mention, life coach and anger management counselor.

Randy had stormed back stage after a brutal match with his former friend, Cody Rhodes.

Which he lost both the match, and his temper.

Cody had hit him with a cheap shot, a thumb to the eye, and Randy lost it.

The ref disqualified Randy, which made him more mad.

There's one rule when it comes to Randy, and it's don't talk to him when he's already pissed off.

So what does Teddy ask me to do?

To talk to him while he's pissed. I was sure I was signing my death certificate when I poked my head through the door of his dressing room.

When you're a big shot, AKA whine-ass, like Randy, you get your own dressing room.

Knowing full well what could happen if I took a wrong step, I just had to give him attitude.

"You know you're not supposed to throw your face at his fist, right?"

But instead of snapping at me, he laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I forgot that part."

I sat down next to him, and took his hands from his face.

"Let me see it."

At that his body turned and I pushed his lids open to get a closer look at that crystal blue eye that was now red, instead of white.

Before I knew it, I wasn't just examining his eyes anymore, I was getting lost in them.

And he knew it.

"You're fine. Quit being a baby." I stated and stood to leave.

Before I could get far; Randy grabbed my hand.

"Wait."

I sighed and slowly turned back towards him.

"I have to tell you something. And you're not going to like it."

I furrowed my brows at his discomfort.

Randy never had a problem telling it like it was.

Even if it hurt someone.

"Can you sit?"

I nodded and sat back down in the same chair as before.

"There's a rumor going around the locker room," he paused, heaving a breath.

I had a bad feeling about this.

"that," again he paused.

His head was down, looking at his hand that still held mine.

"some of the guys heard that Punk was telling people he was single again."

I froze.

What?

Why would he do that?

We had a tiny fight barely three days ago.

It wasn't the end of the world.

Why would he be saying that?

I shook my head.

This could very well be a head game by Kaitlyn.

"Are you sure he's the one saying it?"

I meant my voice to be normal, but it came out barely louder than a whisper.

Randy turned his head up and looked at me for a moment.

Slowly, he nodded.

"I heard it from Ted."

Goddammit.

If there was one superstar I trusted, aside from Johnny, it was Teddy DiBiase.

He was the only guy I could actually be friends with, even after sleeping with him.

I sighed, not really knowing what to think.

"Well, I guess that means I'm free tonight." I muttered trying to lighten the mood.

It was New Years eve.

It was time to party, not pout.

And right now, I was doing just that.

Drinking until I felt like partying.

And in a few more glasses, I would be there.

There was a sudden nudge on my shoulder.

I turned seeing Randy plop down on the stool next to me.

He didn't talk to me at first, just ordered a beer and took a few swigs.

Soon, all our friends started to filter in.

Sheamus, Christian, Wade, Alberto, Johnny, Aksana, and Alicia.

Just like Randy had said.

And from there, my vision got a little fuzzy and I couldn't remember what happened thirty seconds after.

Next thing I remember, I'm in a hotel bathroom, taking my clothes off to take a shower.

And I realize, that I wasn't in my room.

I slipped my baby blue t-shirt that had a faded Batman symbol on it, back on and poked my head out the door.

Randy was sprawled out on the bed, shirtless.

"Pst."

His head popped up and looked at me.

"I just remembered. This isn't my room." I laughed.

He did too.

As I laughed, I wobbled towards the bed, where I collapsed next to him.

We laughed for a few more seconds, while Randy stared at the ceiling.

"You remember that time we went snowboarding in Colorado?"

I laughed.

"How could I forget," I paused remembering when Randy had decided to take me out on the slopes.

He wasn't exactly Shawn White, but he was a hell of a lot better at it than I was.

And that was the one and only time I tried snowboarding.

We were on one of the smaller hills at a resort, and it wasn't particularly busy, so there wasn't a lot of people around.

And being perfectly balanced like I am, I'd taken a short tumble.

So after laughing at me, Randy got beside me and tried to pull me up.

I didn't know how to stand on a snowboard, let alone try and get up after a fall.

So as he pulled me, my body flopped all around and eventually landed back in the snow, with Randy planted right next to me.

I pointed at him and laughed, and as I made fun of him, I got a face full of freezing snow.

Thus, we engaged in an epic snow fight.

Sitting right next to each other.

It actually was one of the few moments I could look back on and not dread with every fiber of my being.

"That slope patrol guy didn't really like snow in the face that much huh?" he laughed.

That was right.

There was this patrol guy on skis, riding around and I'd thrown a snow ball, epically missed Randy, and hit the guy in the face.

He ended up escorting us back to the lodge right after that.

"It had to have been pay back for the Hockey practice thing."

He let out a bark of laughter.

"It was!" Randy said, turning on to his side to face me.

"You forced me to go and play hockey with your favorite team, and make a fool of myself while you looked like a hockey goddess!"

I just shrugged, wearing a smirk.

I'd gotten invited to hang out and practice with the Devils one weekend when I was home.

Little did I know, while we were there, they were going to actually put me to work and I actually got to practice with them.

They let Randy too, but ice skating wasn't exactly his strong suit.

While he was busy shuffling his feet, trying to get to the bench, I was playing around with the best of the best in Jersey.

Looking great too.

He chuckled again at my nonchalant expression, wearing his own kind of smirk.

His hand came to rest on my thigh.

But in my drunken haze, I didn't really register what that meant before Randy's lips were against mine.

Now, if my head was working correctly, it would have shunned me from placing my hands behind his neck and pressing him harder against me like I did.

But my instincts said it was ok to remember what it was like to roll around in bed with Randy.

And I'd seriously forgotten how great it was.

And without any concern for my clothes, Randy gripped the denim at my waist and yanked it down, pushing it to my knees.

Quickly, I knew where this was going.

And for a split second, I didn't care.

I was dumped.

Why should I?

As I felt my way around Randy's torso, fingers tracing over the rippling abs that popped off of his body.

The light came on and my heart stopped.

I'd said I loved someone three weeks ago, and I'd meant it.

I slammed my hands against his shoulders and pushed with all my might, trying desperately to get Randy off of me.

I turned my face away from him, and caught my breath.

"Randy stop!"

Another second and Randy was looking down at me from an arms length away.

Quickly, I sat up and pulled up my jeans, stepping slowly and drunkenly away from the bed.

"What the hell Eli?" he practically yelled at me, standing up a few feet from me.

And might I mention, he was thoroughly pissed off.

"Why, why did you stop this?"

My heartbeat quickened as he took another step towards me.

I took three backwards.

"Because I don't want to do this! It's been only three days since-"

Randy cut me off.

"You heard what he said!"

"No, I heard what you said!" I pressed my hand against the wall to help stay steady.

I was drunk, the rush of blood was making me dizzy.

"I got to go." I muttered, holding my head.

I grabbed my jacket, and swung the door open, and left.

Thank god my room was on another floor.

I heard the room door slam behind me as I stumbled towards the elevator.

A few minutes later, I was in my room, back to the door.

After a huge breath, I slumped to the floor.

My jacket was on the floor next to me, in it's own pathetic little pile.

Underneath the leather, was the gray cotton sweatshirt I'd stole from Punk before all of this happened.

And as my fingers touched it, my eyes started to burn.

What the hell had I just done?

Oh, that's right.

I was a drunken whore.

And I'd almost just slept with Randy.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

I'd forgotten that I loved Punk so much that it hurt.

I brought my knees up to my chest and buried my face in the sweatshirt I clutched so tightly.

And cried.

The following morning, at about 8 AM, there was a knock at my door.

"Eli! I'm leaving for the airport now. Can you make it there on your own?"

It was Johnny.

"Yeah." I yelled back after slowing my heart down.

I'd fallen asleep against the door last night, or shall I say a few hours ago, and Johnny knocking on it now scared the life right out of me.

I slowly made it to my feet and took slow and deliberate steps towards the bathroom.

After a half hour shower, I was clean and ready to go.

And, also, running late.

But with this massive hangover, and guilt trip, looming over me, it was hard to move faster.

I crouched down and opened my suitcase to dig out some clothes.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before I saw it.

A half gone bottle of whiskey sat at the bottom of my bag.

I looked at the clock.

I had enough time for one drink.


	56. Well Isn't That Just A Kick in the Pants

The next thing I knew, I was being stunned awake by my phone blasting next to me.

Instantly, I shot up.

But was soon thrown back down by the radiating pain in my shoulder.

I looked over to see my arm under the couch.

"Ah, what the fuck?" I grumbled, then quickly remembered my phone.

"Hello?"

My voice was raspy from sleep, and the oncoming hangover I was starting to feel.

"Eli, it's Triple H." he paused, not sounding happy.

Not one bit.

"I'm afraid I'm calling with some bad news."

"Uh-oh boss-man. What I'd do this time?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Do you not remember last night?"

Remember what?

I didn't even know what state I was in, let alone that past week.

How the hell was I supposed to remember last night?

He sighed at my silence.

"You went to Smackdown drunk last night. I'm sorry Eli, you're suspended for thirty days."

**The End.**


	57. Author's Note

**HELLO! **

**All my loyal readers,**

**Thanks everyone for sticking with me for so long. 56 chapters, is one hell of a trek. But hell. We made it. BUT WAIT! Don't fret. There's way more Eli Strong to come. Like hell I'd leave you hanging like that! Meet me back here in one week for the debut of the sequel to Strong Resolve, Redemption In Two Fold. Where Eli is in store for more trials of the body and mind. And the ultimate test of all. **

**With much love, **

**Skee. **


	58. New Story

**I case you all haven't noticed yet, REDEMPTION IN TWOI FOLD has been uploaded. **

**Thanks again for your loyalty,**

**Skee. **


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